Persian Nights
by Lord of Kavaka
Summary: Sequel to I KNOW YOU. Dastan marries Tamina and becomes the Hand of the Gods. Can he stop a war before it begins?  This is for bellathedisenchanted, your comment got me thinking. -Romance/Angst/Adventure; Rated T, except for chapter 7, which is rated M-
1. Chapter 1

**Persian Nights – Chapter 1**

Tamina sat on the edge of the bed, nervous and apprehensive. She did not know why she felt this way, especially after everything Dastan had told her. Together they had written back time and prevented a tyrant from seizing control of the Empire. And now, with their wedding tomorrow, she found herself anxious.

The handmaidens were all smiles and told her that all brides felt this way. But why did she? Dastan had told her everything… _everything_. She could hardly believe it. But how else could he know the things he did? How could he know how to excite her so?

She stood up and stepped over to the mirror, looking at herself. Her skimpy nightgown showed off her womanly form, and the thought of a man seeing her like this made her blush. When the Persians had come into the sacred shine room, Tus had said that rumors had flowed throughout the lands of her beauty and everyone seemed to agree that those rumors were true. Now looking at herself, she wondered what it was men saw? Her breasts were not as large as other woman's, and she felt more a child than a woman.

But around Dastan, her Prince of Persia, she felt a woman. How did men judge beauty? She wondered. To her, Dastan… oh, Dastan was gorgeous. She could not have hoped for a better man than Dastan. And the things he'd whisper into her ear when he took her on walks around Alamut, it was enough to make her knees quake with anticipation for their wedding night.

Finding herself smiling at her own reflection, she blushed and stepped back. There was a rapt at the door. Before she could turn around to inquire, the door opened and Dastan came waltzing in with the look of inebriation on his face. She knitted her eyebrows together and frowned. He must have been out partying with Bis and Garsiv.

Dastan's drunk eyes openly started at her chest and he wore a boyish smile.

"See something you like, Prince?" she asked, playfully.

"Oh I most certainly do, yes," came his slurred liquor filled voice.

Tamina frowned. He was drunk. She did not know if she wanted to deal with him when he was drunk. The romance of the moment faded away and she gave him a fierce glare.

"So the Lion of Persia comes to deflower his bride before their wedding night, as he?" she snapped.

Dastan closed the distance between them in a heartbeat and his strong arms were around her. His hands latched onto her bottom and pulled her close. She squinted and pulled back when she smelled the alcohol on his breath. This was not the sweet lovable Dastan who took her on moonlight walks.

"Oh, Tamina…," he muttered softly, in a slurred voice, squeezing her bottom and leaning forward to kiss her.

Without thinking, she slapped him. Dastan shook his head, stunned and stepped back. A small smirked formed on his face as he rubbed his hurt cheek.

She huffed and turned her back on him, not wanting to face him in such a state, though she had to admit, she did like how his hands had touched her. But at the moment, she did not want him to know.

"So," she huffed, indignantly. "Is this how the noble princes of Persia treat their soon-to-be wives? They come to their bedchambers a drunkard mess before the night they are to wed and take her by force!"

Tamina heard a low chuckle escape from Dastan lips. "Oh Princess, you are too much," he said, amusement lacing his voice. "If I were any less noble I'd ravage you right now!"

She bit her lip. "Then why don't you! Just get it over with. I know that is all you really want!"

"Is that what you think, Princess?" Dastan sounded hurt. She closed her eyes and felt tears. What was the matter with her? His voice changed and took on a kinder tone. "Do not worry, my princess, I will see you on the morrow."

Tamina fiddled with her hands, unsure of herself, she turned to stop him, but when she turned around he was gone and the door was shut. She wanted to shout for him to come back. She wanted to say yes, that she did want him to ravage her now. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she returned to her bed, despondently.

"He came here to make love to me, and what did I do…," she murmured to herself as she climbed into bed. "I accused him of only seeking lust."

She closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Persian Nights – Chapter 2**

Dastan stood out on the balcony watching the sunrise. Today would be his wedding day. As he stood there, he could not help but think what was wrong with Tamina last night. From his recollection he had not been drunk or under any other influence. Though, he wondered what had possessed him to go to her bedchambers the night before their wedding.

He raised a hand and racked it through his hair. Gods, he had such a splitting headache. He wondered what it was from.

As he tried to remember the occurrences of the previous night, Dastan pondered his own behavior. Had he really grabbed Tamina like that? He shook his head. He did not want to believe he was capable of such a thing. Sure he wanted Tamina, but he had fallen in love with her during there adventure that had never been, thanks to the Sands of Time. He would never force himself on her. Never.

Since he had changed history, he'd been waiting to be with Tamina so much it actually hurt. He was surprised by that. Nothing had ever fazed him before. Except for the death of his father. That had been agonizing. He had lost everything in a matter of moments, his father, his brothers, and a family. How quickly Tus and Garsiv had dismissed him as a traitor and murder. He had not committed patricide!

He'd fled with Tamina and their adventures began. Her hotheadedness was so enticing. He loved verbally sparring with her. She was such a little firestorm that it pleased him to no end just to be around her. When he had turned her over to the slavers and she had made that comment that he could not keep his eyes off of her, he had babbled, unable to come up with some witty retort. Truth be told, Tamina had been right. He was attracted to her and had trouble keeping his eyes off her.

Nizam's plan was so elaborate and filled with such hatred, that Dastan could hardly believe it when he had found out the truth. Nizam had always been so kind and considerate to him. He had been a true friend, a true uncle. But something had changed in him. He was bitter and angry that Sharaman had become king instead of him.

Dastan shook his head. He never wanted to be king. Tus could be king. All Dastan wanted was to be with Tamina.

As the sun continued to rise over the sacred city of Alamut, the door to his chambers opened and Bis walked in, smiling from ear to ear.

"Dastan, where'd you go last night?" he asked, walking up behind him.

Dastan narrowed his eyes and looked out at the city, feeling a little subdued. "Bis…?" he began, cutting through the amusement in his friend's voice. "Did I get drunk last night?"

Bis looked at him with a bemused look. "Drunk? You?"

"Just answer the question? Did I get drunk?" he asked.

His friend looked at him awkwardly then shook his head and smiled. "If you did, you're a light weight, even Tus drank more than you," Bis said. "And from what I here, Garsiv is still banging his head against the wall trying to clear it from the hangover."

Dastan furrowed his brow. If that was true, then why did his head throbbed so much this morning? Had he truly gotten drunk with just a couple of drinks? Was the alcohol the source of this headache? He looked over at Bis.

"How are the preparations going?" he asked, wanting to avoid the topic of the previous night. He wanted to forget about it. He could only hope that he had not destroyed the relationship he had been rebuilding with Tamina. Though, he had to admit, as he rubbed his raw cheek—it still hurt wear she had slapped him—he had enjoyed the banter.

"Well," Bis was saying. "Tus has his wives seeing to it. They seemed rather pleased to be having another woman to gossip with, and this time about someone other than their own husband." Then he added, as if he had forgotten, "The King is waiting for you."

"Me?"

"Yes," Bis said. "We wants to speak with you before the wedding?"

"What about?" Dastan asked.

Bis looked at him as if he had gone mad. "It's your wedding day, Dastan!" Bis said grinning. "I'm sure it's nothing more that your father wanting to have a father-son talk with you."

Dastan gave a nod, hoping that is all it was. He turned to find his tunic on his bed and pulled it over his shoulders. He should get cleaned up before he went before his father.

"Bis, can you have a bath drawn up for me?" he asked.

Bis looked at him and laughed. "I'm not your servant, Dastan," he said chuckling. "I'm your friend. But yes, I'll have the servants draw you a bath. Good thing, too. You smell like horse. I'd think you'd want to smell your best for that lovely bride of yours."

Dastan gave a nod and watched him leave. He knitted his eyebrows together and raised his arm, sniffing. Pulling back his head, he coughed. He did smell like horse. But he didn't remembering riding one last night.

Confusion and worry began to sink in. What else had he done last night?


	3. Chapter 3

**Persian Nights – Chapter 3**

Tamina slowly opened her eyes. Today was the day. Today was the day of her wedding. She had gotten little sleep, fretting and worrying over Dastan and his strange behavior. She'd been so surprise to see such open lust and desire in his eyes, and the way he'd touch her. She had not expected that.

She slowly climbed out of the covers and fetched her robe. She put it over shoulders seeking to hide flesh that her nightgown did not cover, unsure of herself. Was she really ready for this? She'd spent much of her life in temple and prayer. Tamina had never really had time to worry about marriage. It had never been a problem before.

Tamina huffed, disappointed in herself. She was the High Priestess of Alamut. She was better than this. Why was she letting her emotions rule her mind?

There came a knock from the door. Tamina tensed, wondering if it was Dastan, come again to try and take her. She called out tentatively, only to hear the soft replies of her handmaidens. Sighing, Tamina called them in. The handmaidens came waddling in all gushing with excitement. The dyes and inks for the ritual body paint were ready and it was time for them to draw the spirals and symbols on her hands, arms, legs, and feet.

Though, unlike the time she stood there and had the dyes applied to her body before she prayed before the sacred shrine of the Dagger of Time, this was to be different. The symbols would have different meaning. She was a little embarrassed, and blushed slightly, as the handmaidens removed her robe and nightgown, but these women did not look on her with critical eyes, or judge her. They were kind and considerate, smiling and friendly.

The symbols the handmaidens drew were divine motifs meant to promote fertility and blessings onto the marriage. Tamina could not help but feel self-conscious as they helped her remove her underthings. She had never been this bare before someone before. In little order, she was standing there, completely without anything separating her flesh from the outside world, as nude as a babe born from the womb.

The handmaidens continued to draw the symbols, dots, and lines on her. Each one was older than her and had already been to their marriage beds. They gushed and smiled and talked of things to come.

Tamina remained silent and listened as they talked. Her cheeks flushed when the women started talking about the happenings of the wedding bed. She was nervous about that. What if she could not satisfy Dastan? What if she was not enough for him? His brother Tus had many wives… what if after his one night with her, Dastan would seek another wife that would be more pleasing to him in the marriage bed?

She shook her head of those thoughts. Dastan would not do that. Not with the way he talked to her and with how he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. The way he would slightly brush her arm with his fingers sent shivers down her spine. She had never felt more alive than when she was with him. And soon, she would be with him in everyway.

Finished with their work, the women helped her into her wedding garment. It was a simply thing compared to her traditional priestess robes. The handmaidens made jests that the outfit was designed for quick and easy removal, as to best please the husband. The women then began to discuss the different things they had learned was best to please their husbands in bed, as if they were giving Tamina advice on how to please Dastan on their wedding night. Tamina bit her lower lip, feeling alarmed by some of the things the women were saying. Did Dastan really expect her to do those things?

Before she knew it, she was fully dressed and the handmaidens were leaving, giggling and laughing to themselves. Cautiously, Tamina approached the mirror to have a look at herself. She blinked and nearly gasped. Was that really how she looked? A knock came from outside, and she backed away from the mirror and stood stiffly.

"Come in," Tamina called.

The door opened and a beautiful woman in flowing black silk robes stepped in, closing the door behind her. Tamina narrowed her eyes and recognized the stunning blue eyes and dark raven hair.

"Astera," she bowed her head. This was Tus's first wife, the one who would become queen when he became king after his father.

Astera strode into the room with an air of grace and authority. She was from the far east and had an exotic look about her. Tamina could see why King Sharaman had arranged the marriage. Astera would make a noble queen.

The woman's stunning eyes looked over Tamina with a critical glare. "You will make a worthy bride," Astera declared when she was done scrutinizing her.

Tamina did not know how to respond, so she merely gave a nod. Astera stepped closer and shifted the wedding garment, pulling it open to look at Tamina's chest. Tamina blushed.

"Suitable," Astera said. "Enough for a babe to suckle. Yes," she moved around Tamina, her eyes narrowing and judging. "Yes. You shall produce excellent children."

Astera returned to stand in front of her and pulled the wedding garment back over Tamina's chest and fastening it. She gave her a small smirk. "Have you ever laid with a man before, child?"

Tamina narrowed her eyes. She did not like how Astera referred to her as "child."

"Answer the question, princess," Astera commanded in a stern voice.

"No," Tamina flushed, snappishly.

Astera let out a smooth silky laugh. "This is good, too. The Gods will bless this union." She raised a perfect eyebrow. "But how do you feel about marrying a sewer rat?"

Tamina lowered her brow, angry. "Dastan is not a sewer rat," she responded, glaring at Astera. "He is a prince!"

"He may have the title," Astera chuckled. "But Dastan is anything but a prince. My husband may see him as a brother, but Dastan is not his brother. Not by blood."

Tamina could not stop herself. "If it were not for Dastan the entire world would have been destroyed by the gods!"

Astera raised her eyebrows in amusement. "You have let to lay with the man and you already think that much of him," she gave a cruel laugh, before stepping towards the door. "Just wait for your wedding night, Princess," she called back cold-heartedly. "We'll see how you feel about him after he as taken your maidenhood from you."

And with that Tamina was left alone to contemplate the events to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Persian Nights – Chapter 4**

Dastan stepped briskly through the halls, Bis walking behind, trying to keep up. His headache was still throbbing but he was determined that he would be clear headed for his meeting with his father.

Truth be told, Dastan was little worried. This would be the first time he'd see his father since those awful events in the time that he had changed. It had been so terrible to see his father die and be so helpless to do anything help.

The soldiers stood at attention when they saw him round the corner and approach the doors to the great hall where his father was overseeing the final preparation for the wedding. When he entered the room, he saw Tus and two of his wives standing by the altar, praying. Out of all his wives, Tus had more in common with Parisa and Nesrine; they were both as devout as he was in their prayers. The exotic and strong willed Astera—whose marriage to Tus, father had arranged first, and the one to be queen—was not there.

Tus rarely made time for his first wife. He spent most of his time with Nesrine, his third wife. She was his favorite. Tus had often confided in him that he wished that Nesrine could be his queen instead of Astera, but his first wife was of more nobility and had the temperament to be queen.

His father, the King, was directing the servants into how best to set up the gold curtains around the altar. Sharaman wanted everything to be perfect for Dastan's wedding.

Bis hung back as Dastan approached his father. He bowed his head slightly, when his father saw him, before being embraced in warm hug. "Dastan, my son," the king beamed. "You have not shaved?"

Dastan rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face. "I have not had the time, father, my apologies," he said.

Sharaman gave a nod. "Garsiv told me about last night… you disappeared for three hours. Where did you go?" his father raised an eyebrow.

Dastan fumbled to find words. He did not know if he could confess to his father what he had done, how he had gone to Tamina's chambers. He still did fully understand why he had done that. And there was the matter of him having the smell of horse on him. Had he gone for a ride?

"I… I…," he stammered.

Sharaman shook his head. "Time for boyish days are gone, Dastan," the king spoke, gesturing for him to follow. They walked to the side of the room underneath the pillars and statuary. "Soon you will be a man, a husband."

Dastan gave a nod. "I know father. I try so hard to be the man you want me to be."

Sharaman shook his head. "I want _you_ to _want_ be that man, as well, Dastan. A truly great man does not seek to become the man that others want him to be, but the man he wants to be. You have to want to be the great man, Dastan, to become him."

"Yes, father," Dastan said. "And I do. I want to be good man, and a good husband to Tamina."

The king gave sagely nod. "Good," he said. "I am pleased to hear that." His father stopped and looked out at the hall as Garsiv entered the room dressed in the same cloak and tunic he had worn the previous night.

"Dastan," the king said, turning away to look on him. "You have played at being a soldier for long enough," he said. "You have it in yourself to be a great man. More than just a soldier. It is time you let others have the glory of war and become the prince I saw in that bazaar the day I found you."

Dastan was stunned. They were still at war the Byzantines. How could he leave the army now, when they needed him now more than ever?

"But, Tus will need me," he objected

Sharaman raised a hand to silence him. "Tus and Garsiv can handle the army. Are you so willing to throw yourself into battle, yet are timid and apprehensive to dive into marriage?"

"No, father," Dastan said. "I want to marry Tamina… I love her."

Sharaman raised an eyebrow, "You barely know her." He gave a shrug and laughed softly, placing an arm around his son's shoulder. "Well, not matter. If you say you love her, then you do. You are a lucky man, Dastan. It is not many a prince who can claim that about his wife."

Dastan looked over at Tus, who was talking with Nesrine. His brother's hand was tendering touching her arm. He could see the love in Tus's eyes for Nesrine, and that same love reflected back by Nesrine. Sharaman noticed his gaze. "Yes, Tus has no affection for Astera, but she will make him a good queen. Nesrine fulfills the other half of that marriage."

"And what of Parisa?" Dastan asked, noticing Tus's second wife standing alone off to the side watching Tus and Nesrine.

Sharaman looked over at her sadly. "Yes, even she, has her place," he said. "Though, I must admit, life has been unfair to her."

That was putting it kindly. She'd been cursed to a loveless marriage and Dastan doubted if Tus even went to her bed. Nesrine was the only one Tus ever went to. Though, for the good of the kingdom, he would occasionally share his bed with Astera. Parisa was left to be a childless wife, lost between the other two.

"I do not want this to happen with Tamina, father," he confessed. "I want her to be my only wife."

"Then you are fortunate you are not the heir," Sharaman said. "Though, you are still my son, even if not by blood." He looked over at Garsiv, who was squinting up at the decorum, not looking pleased. "Garsiv, however, is a different matter. I need to find him a wife. He needs someone to reel him in. He has little other thoughts beside war and conquest in his mind. Sometimes, he is far too eager to fight instead of listen. He's had to stand in Tus's shadows since he was born, trying to impress and be seen. He will need an anchor to keep him from killing himself in battle."

Dastan gave a nod. "If I can help at all, I will, father."

Sharaman smiled warmly. "I wonder if your brothers truly realize how fortunate they are to have a brother like you. No eye on the throne and no eye on their wives, you are truly a better brother than the gods' blessed me with." He looked down sadly. "I wished I had paid more attention Nizam. If I had, I may have noticed the festering hatred growing in his heart and soothed it before it consumed his soul."

Dastan placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "That is not your fault, father," he said.

His father nodded. "Enough talk of things that cannot be changed." Dastan smiled, if only his father knew. "After your marriage, you shall remain here in Alamut, as the royal viceroy with your wife as your counsel and confidant."

"Come," Sharaman gestured for one of his attendants. "Luka, see to my son. He needs a shave and…," he sniffed the air. "And a stronger bath."

Dastan went off with Luka feeling unsure. Was he really ready to give up the army for Tamina? Could he leave Tus and Garsiv, even though he knew they needed him? He looked back over his shoulder to take one last glance at the altar before leaving to prepare for what should be the happiest day in his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Persian Nights – Chapter 5**

When it was time, it was King Sharaman who came to escort her. She did not know what to expect. Tamina had heard so many things about the King of All Persia, and he was nothing like what she had been told. He was wonderful and kind, gentle of heart, and noble in spirit. After meeting him, she could see why the King had picked Dastan up off the streets and adopted him.

He smiled at her as he entered the room. "You look lovely, my dear," he said. "I can see why my son loves you."

"He loves me?" Tamina heard herself say, though she knew she shouldn't be surprised, not after what Dastan had told her about the time that had been wiped out by the Sands of Time.

The King raised his arm, and she cautiously placed her arm around his. The king gave her hand a gentle pat. "Do not worry, princess," he said. "Dastan shall make you a good husband."

"I know he will, your majesty," Tamina answered. "I believe I might even love him as well." From everything Dastan had told her, and how he'd been so kind to her, even considering that awkward incident last night. But she could always tell by the look in his eyes that he desired her, but not just for her body. Dastan's eyes always held a look of love whenever he stared at her.

Sharaman raised an eyebrow. "Surprising, indeed. You seem to have quite an effect on my son, Princess," he said. "And he on you. Your attitude has much to be commended, especially considering Dastan is the one who lead the invasion on Alamut and breached the walls."

"He has changed since then," she said.

"Yes, he has," Sharaman replied thoughtfully.

She gave a nod and together they made their way out of the room. Outside Tamina's maids of honor waited. Astera, dressed in the most rich and lavish silks was there, as well as Tus's other wives, the pretty Nesrine and sad-looking Parisa, both of which were dressed in less rich fabrics, yet they looked beautiful nonetheless. Out of all four of them, including Tamina, Astera looked the most beautiful. The stunning blue eyes of the woman, who would be queen, narrowed as she took Tamina in, but she said nothing.

The King ignored the others and focused his attention on Tamina. "You seem worried, my dear?"

Tamina tried to smile and looked up at the king. "I am just a little nervous, your majesty," she responded.

The King laughed softly. "That is perfectly normal, my dear," he said grinning. He lowered his head. "To be honest, I myself was a little nervous before my wedding."

"You?" she was shocked. How could such a wise and noble man like King Sharaman be nervous about a wedding?

The King gave a nod. "All young people fear the unknown, especially when the marriage was arranged," he said. "However, unlike most arranged marriages, I sense yours to Dastan is different somehow."

"As do I, your majesty," Tamina responded as they continued to walk. They past a large opening that look down upon her beautiful city of Alamut. She wondered what everyone would think if they knew what lay beneath the surface. Dastan knew. And he did not care. Since the moment Tus proposed the marriage, all Dastan had ever done was treat her with kindness and a tenderness that she had not expected from the Lion of Persia. Then again, there was a lot about Dastan that was different that his reputation.

As they turned the corner, Tamina lost her breath. The great hall was packed with people from all across the Empire. Men were dressed in silks, turbans, togas, and robes; all sorts of garments and clothing. The women were much the same, yet no one wore a dress a magnificent as Astera. Which Tamina believed was the woman's intent. It was also kind of cruel of her, as if Astera wanted to upstage the bride on her own wedding day.

Their procession made its way down the aisle that formed as the throng parted, and Tamina got her first glimpse of her groom, her husband to be.

Dastan was shaved and his hair had been washed and combed. He looked somewhat uncomfortable in the white silk long tunic he wore with a gilded belt around his waist, and red embroidered trousers. Upon his head was a blue and red turban. She smiled though, seeing how the tunic hugged his chest and well-defined muscles.

When he saw her, Dastan's face lit up. He grinned from ear to ear. Beside him stood Tus and Garsiv. The later dressed in his best battle armor, while the former—and future king—was dressed in a similar manner as his father. Bis was at the end of the groom's party dressed in purple robes made of a fine rich velvet material.

As they approached the altar, the King held out her hand, offering it to his son. Dastan took her hand, giving it a slight loving squeeze, and together they turned to face the altar. King Sharaman stepped around them and stood up on the dais to face the assembled witnesses.

"Friends, Countrymen, Men and Women of Persia, and honored guests," the King spoke in such a strong and sure voice, that Tamina began to become lightheaded with the anticipation of the coming nuptials. "Today, my son, Dastan, will wed the High Priestess of Alamut, Princess Tamina. Their union shall unite Persia and Alamut for all time, and will only strengthen our bond."

The gathering applauded, and grew silent as an elderly priest made his way up to the dais and altar. The man had leather skin and needed help to step up on the raised platform. As they waited for the man, Dastan leaned over.

"Tamina," he spoke in a soft voice. "I'm sorry about last night… I… I don't know what came over me. I would never force myself on you… you have to believe me?"

Tamina risked a quick glance at her soon-to-be husband and gave a small smirk. "You can make up for that night, Lion of Persia," she teased, despite herself. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dastan grin widely, as he turned back to face the altar. Tamina had to suppress the sudden blush that was coming to her face. She could not believe she had just said that.

The old priest finally made his way up to the altar and wiped his sweaty brow. He turned to them and smiled a toothless smile. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Witnesses from across the lands," his voice held much gravitas and strength that it belied his decrepit appearance. "We have gathered here today to unite the lands of Persia and Alamut through marriage. The young Prince Dastan and the young Princess Tamina shall be bonded and so shall their lands. God be good, this shall be a great day. If any here believe that these two shall not be united, speak now, or forever hold you peace."

From the corner of her eye, Tamina saw Astera move.

"I do!" the woman's voice rang out across the silence like a bell chiming in the dead of night.

Beside her Dastan turned and glared at his sister-in-law. Tus took a deep breath through his nose and shot a hard stare at his first wife. Garsiv shared his brothers' disdain for the woman destined to be queen.

King Sharaman looked confused. "What is this about, Astera?"

"You cannot marry the High Priestess of the sacred city of Alamut to a sewer rat!" she snapped, speaking loudly for all to here. "She should be wedding a prince of noble blood, not one of dirt."

Tamina had to suppress a growl of anger. How could this woman be so presumptuous to say that Dastan was any less noble because of his origins?

King Sharaman shook his head. "Blood does not make one noble or a prince," he declared. "Dastan is a prince in his heart. And he is my son. Enough with this woman." He turned to Tus. "Control your wife, Tus."

Tus stepped over to Astera and spoke in hushed words with her. All the time, Astera's eyes never left Tamina. Eventually, though, with all the diplomats and dignitaries assembled, Astera had to relent. She clenched her jaw tight and held her tongue as Tus returned to Dastan's side.

"Continue, old man," Garsiv ordered, when the priest just stood there silently.

The old priest harrumphed and gave a nod. "Prince Dastan, son of Sharaman, do you bind yourself to Princess Tamina, heart, mind, body, and soul from this moment and for all time?"

Tamina looked up at Dastan as he took a quick breath. "I do."

Her heart began to thump with anticipation. It would be her turn next. The old priest turned to her with kind eyes. "Princess Tamina, daughter of Tamur, do you bind yourself to Prince Dastan, heart, mind, body, and soul from this moment and for all time?"

Tamina had to remind herself to breath. "Yes, I do." Her cheeks immediately heated with the suddenly feeling of being bound to another for all time.

"Then, by the power invested to me by God and all those present," the old priest proclaimed. "I declare you man and wife."

Tamina shifted towards her husband, and looked up into his eyes. She saw nothing but love reflecting back. Dastan held her hand, and with the other, reached up and caressed her cheek, pulling her closer. And then their lips touched, and it was like a firestorm had exploded and they were the only ones alive. She closed her eyes overwhelmed with the sheer pleasure of his lips pressing against hers. He pulled her closer and she was vaguely aware of all the shouts and cheers erupting around them.

For this one moment, time stood still, and Tamina savored the kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Persian Nights – Chapter 6**

Dastan's face flushed with excitement as he backed away from his wife. Tamina let out a soft giggle of delight as he placed an arm around her and turned to face the assembled throng. Cheers and shouts rained down on them. In the distance, bells chimed to signal the wedding to the entire city of Alamut.

His father and Tus were all smiles. And he noticed his brother looking lovingly across the aisle and Nesrine. Garsiv was trying to keep his emotion in check—always the warrior, but he could not hold back his smile. Bis was near tears, he was so happy.

As he led Tamina down the aisle, Dastan ignored the look of out right hatred that Astera directed at him. He was not going to allow that woman to ruin this day for him. He had waited so long to finally be with Tamina. It had been so much of a struggle to simply not pull her into his arms and kiss her when he had seen her standing before the altar of the Dagger of Time, when they had come to her to apologize for there invasion.

Now, she was his wife, and he felt a joy seep into his heart that he had not felt in a long time. It was almost as if he had found his other half, a half he had been missing since before he had met Tamina. That feeling had slowly begun to fill his heart as he spent more time with Tamina and her feisty comebacks to everything he said. How much he enjoyed those times. Part of him was sad that Tamina did no remember as well, but she knew. He had told her and his proof had been his knowledge of the Sands of Time, which had surprised her when he mentioned them.

The reception was next, and Dastan was worried that he could not get through it; his thoughts were so much on being with Tamina. Garsiv was of no help. He had walked up behind him and gave him a slap on the back.

"Can't way for the wedding bed, can you, Dastan?" he jested, before, playfully wrapping his arms around his neck and threatening him with a choke, just like how they'd done as boys growing up.

Dastan laughed lightly, but Garsiv had hit on it. He'd waited for so long and it seemed almost painfully unfair that now he had to stand here and greet diplomats and other nobles. Tamina seemed to have a better time at it than him. She knew almost all the dignitaries that had come to their wedding.

He was relieved when the food was finally prepared and they were ushered back into the great hall to take a seat at the bridal table. There were dates and plums, fruits of all sorts. Tamina nibbled here and there, but not much. Dastan had a feeling that she was as anxious as he was, but probably for different reasons. His was a longing to be with her, having fallen in love with her before she knew him.

All of this was, of course, thanks to the Sands of Time. As he thought back to that battle with Nizam before the Hourglass of Time, he furrowed his brow, thinking he had forgotten something that had happened that was vitally important. Something that had happened to him. He shrugged off the feeling to watch as Tamina inspected a small grape before plopping it into her mouth.

She looked up at him and smirked.

"What are you staring at, my husband?" her eyes beamed with that fierce passion that he had fallen in love with.

"I'm staring at my beautiful wife," he responded leaning forward to playful kissing her cheek.

"Dastan, we're not yet in the marriage bed, behave yourself," she teased back, blushing.

Suddenly there was some shouting from outside the hall and the guards went through the archway. A runner returned and bowed before the King, before whispering a message. His father narrowed his eyes and frowned.

"Let him in," he said. "We'll hear what he has to say."

The soldier nodded and dashed off. Dastan looked over to his father, confused. The King did not respond, but looked up at the entrance, waiting whatever it was that was coming. Dastan looked up just in time as a man in a white toga with purple fringe stepped through the door. He had pasty white skin and smoothed dark hair that was cut close to his scalp.

"A Roman," he heard Garsiv growl.

Sure enough, the man was from the Empire. But, to be more precise, the Eastern Roman Empire, based out of the city of Constantinople. In recent years, since the fall of their sister empire, the Eastern Empire had begun to call themselves the Byzantine Empire.

The Persian Empire had been at war with the Byzantines for a number of years now and the Byzantines had just recently installed a new emperor, a man named Justinian.

The Byzantine walked down the aisle to the bridal table, glaring over a hawkish nose at everyone. These Romans were very arrogant, having once been the rulers of the known world. They still had not learned humility despite the fact the origin of their empire had fallen to the Visigoths.

"King Sharaman," the man spoke in a thick accent, foreign to these lands of Persia. "I bring tidings from our Emperor Justinian."

"We thank you, Ambassador Aulus," Sharaman said. "Would you care to join us in celebrating the wedding of my son Dastan to the Princess Tamina."

Aulus looked over at them for a moment, before returning his attention to the king. "Speaking of weddings," he said. "You're son Prince Garsiv is not yet wed," Aulus said. "The Emperor has a proposal that may end the war."

Sharaman raised his eyebrows and looked down the table at Garsiv, who had put down his drink to listen more intently to the conversation once he had heard his name.

"And what is this proposal?" Sharaman inquired.

"Emperor Justinian proposes a marriage alliance between Prince Garsiv and his sister, Vigilantia," Aulus announced.

Dastan heard Garsiv huff and mutter, "I will never marry a roman pig." But thankful he had not been loud enough for the ambassador to hear.

The King gave a slight nod, his eyes indicating he had heard Garsiv and would, not doubt, have a conversation with his son afterwards. "An interesting proposal, but there is still much to discuss before such a matter is decided," he said. "In the meantime, please join us, and celebrate the a new union."

Aulus inclined his head. "My thanks, King Sharaman."

The Byzantine followed Luka down the table and was seated. Dastan shook his head to clear it of the interruption and turned his attention back to Tamina. She was looking down the table at the ambassador. She turned and looked back up at him and furrowed her brow.

"Do you think your father would consider the offer?" she asked.

Dastan shrugged. "It would be an end to the war."

Tamina nodded and looked down at Garsiv. "But would Garsiv want that?"

Dastan lowered his eyebrows. He should feel guilty that he was the only one that got to marry a woman he loved. Sure, Tus loved Nesrine, but his first wife Astera took precedence when it came to the royal line. He leaned over and gently laid an arm around Tamina's shoulder.

"Enough talk of politics and war, my princess," he whispered. "Tonight is our night. Let us savor the moment and let all other troubles wait till morning."

For the first time in the entire day, his headache was gone. Perhaps things were finally looking up. Dastan smiled to himself, thinking about the night yet to come.

* * *

*Did I just throw in some historical figures into this? =) This chapter was a little rushed and I'm not entirely pleased with it… but it's the next chapter that I've been waiting for since I started this fic.


	7. Chapter 7

*This chapter heats up. D/T fun times! (WARNING: This chapter is rated M)

* * *

**Persian Nights – Chapter 7**

Tamina was nervous. Her stomach was restless and she had been unable to really eat anything at the wedding feast. This was the one part of the wedding she had been really anxious about. Through a combination of her own fears mixed with what she had overheard the handmaidens say, and then with what Astera had said to her about feeling different about Dastan when he took her maidenhood, Tamina was beside herself with worry.

She stood, nervously ringing her hands, caring little if her sweat caused the dyes and inks to smudge, looking down at would soon become her marriage bed. Behind her, Dastan was closing the door and latching the lock shut. The moment she heard the tumblers click, her heart began pounding with such ferocity that she felt like she was about to faint. Tamina suddenly felt trapped, like a caged animal. Was she even ready for this?

Tamina nearly yelped when she felt his hands on her shoulders. She could feel his warm breath on the nape of her neck as he bent down to kiss the soft flesh between her shoulder and neck. She closed her eyes, feeling the pleasure of the touch, easing her back into him. It felt better than she had expected.

After a time, Dastan turned her around to cup her face in his hands. "You're beautiful, Tamina," he said softly, caressing her cheeks. "And I'm not just saying that beside I'm trying to get in your skirt," he smiled boyish. "You're beautiful. All of you. Your mind, your spirit... that fiery temper of yours."

Tamina furrowed her brow. How did he know these things? Oh yes, she closed her eyes, how could she forget? It was just so hard to always have to remind herself about the Sands of Time. She was not used to other people outside her sacred order knowing about it. Dastan had been the first outsider to even know about the Dagger of Time. It had startled her at first when he mentioned it.

Absorb in her own thoughts, as she was, Tamina was unaware that Dastan leaning forward to kiss her. He captured her lips with his, and Tamina let herself go, loosing herself in the feel of his mouth against hers. His hands ran down her arms, tenderly rubbing them. He stepped back and removed the turban from his head, tossing it aside, running his hand through his hair, visible relieved to have it free of any restriction. Slowly, he reached up and undid the knot holding up her hair, allowing it flow freely down her shoulders.

He smiled and ran his fingers down its length. "Lovely," he murmured softly, before bending down for another kiss. Tamina wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her, deepening the kiss. She pushed her tongue against his mouth, begging him to open for her, which he eagerly did. Her tongue darted in and made contact with his. It was like a spark, and their passion deepened, as they pressed closer to together.

Dastan stepped back and Tamina ran her fingers over his chest, feeling the tight muscles underneath the silk tunic. She looked up into his blue eyes and he gave her that boyish grin of his. "Do you like what you see, princess?"

"Oh, yes, I do," she murmured as she watched him unbuckled the gilded built around his waist and removed the long tunic. Now standing only in crimson embroidered trousers, Dastan leaned closer to her and allowed her to explore his chest and muscles.

Tamina's eyes drank in the sight of him. He was so strong, so magnificent… so gorgeous, really. She could hardly believe that this was to the man she'd just been wedded to. He was far more than she had ever hoped to have. Far better than, if her father was still alive, would have been arranged for her.

She ran her fingers down his arms, feeling the firmness of his biceps as they flexed. Dancing her fingers along his chest, feeling the strong shape of his pectoral muscles under his skin, she moved back up to his neck and jaw line, before caressing his face, feeling every inch of him.

"Oh, Tamina," he closed his eyes, as her hands returned to their exploration of his torso. "If only you knew how much I love you."

Tamina gave him a playful smirk, as she stepped back. "I expect you will in quite a few moments," she said, glancing down to see the evidence of his excitement.

He gave her a crooked grin. "Well, it seems a little unfair that I'm standing here without my shirt on and your fully clothed."

Tamina blushed. This was the part she had been dreading. What if the sight of her bare did not please him as her hands on his chest did? What if his excitement waned at the sight of her?

His hand was on her cheek, as unwanted tears began to sprout. He wiped them away gently with his thumb. "You do not have anything to fear, Tamina," Dastan said softly. "No matter what, you will please me."

She looked up at him and tried to give him the strength she knew he so admired in her, but she could not.

"After all," he smirked. "It's not like I haven't seen it before."

"What?" she said glaring at him. "You're lying?"

Dastan raised his eyebrows teasingly. "Am I?" he jested. "After all, how can you be sure? I was the one holding the dagger when time reversed. You've… you've... just forgotten everything."

Tamina shook her head, "You're making that up, and you know it. I can read it all over your face."

Dastan heaved sigh. "All right you got me… I… I was just trying to make it easier for you," he said, stepping closer. "I want you to be pleased, Tamina. I want to give you the love I know you deserve. Let me take care of you. Let me guide you. Let me… let me make love to you."

He leaned forward and kissed her again. Tamina let her body relax as she felt his hands go up from the strap to undo it. He slowly pulled at the flap and within moment her wedding garment slipped off—the handmaidens had been right, it had been designed for easily removal—and she was as bare as a newborn babe before her husband.

Dastan stepped back and looked down at her and smiled.

"Well?" she asked hotly, her cheeks heating a bit.

A stupid boyish grin grew across his face. "You're very pleasing to me, Tamina… _very_." He reached up and his fingers danced lightly across her skin, tracing the spiral designs that had been painted on her breast. "What are these?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, but could not help but feel pleasure at his touch. He was so gentle and tender as he hand moved from its finger dancing to holding her breast move firmly, squeezing it softly.

"Fertility symbols," she answered, trying to remind herself to breath. Her senses were being assaulted with all sorts of emotions and feelings she had never felt before. It was like a burning fire had been lit in her stomach.

Dastan winked at her and slowly removed his trousers. Tamina looked down and her eyes grew wide as she glimpsed him for the first time. "So it's more than just your skills on the battle field that make you the Lion of Persia," she said raising her eyebrows, giving him a crooked grin, trying to mimic his own smile.

He let out a soft laugh and inched closer. He raised her head with a hand so she was looking him in the eyes. "I'm your lion now, Tamina. Only yours." His other hand drifted down to rest on her hip, his fingers slightly caressing the flesh of her bottom. "You can touch it, if you like. It won't bite."

Hesitantly, Tamina reached out. It was so hard… the skin velvety beneath her fingers, and slightly warm to the touch. Dastan let out a soft groan as she ran her fingers down its length. She looked up at him and squinted. "Is it that easy to please you?" she smirked.

Dastan grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it.

"With you, Tamina," he said. "I've learned that anything is possible… even changing time."

Tamina was a little caught off guard by his reference to the Sands of Time, but only for a moment. His nakedness before her was too overwhelming to ignore for long. He released her hand and let her run her fingers down his shoulder and side, until her hand rested just about at his midsection. She didn't know why, but she desperately wanted to touch him again.

Before he could do anything more, Tamina skidded her fingers over his stomach and towards him. She lightly grabbed him in her delicate fingers and pulled him towards to her. Her other hand roamed the muscles on his chest, wanting to memorize everything curve and line. If it were possible, it seemed his manhood grew even harder in her hand.

Tamina felt her whole body come alive with feelings and sensations she had never felt before. Her legs were trembling with anticipation as she felt the sudden need to just push him to the ground and climb on top.

Dastan stepped closer, allowing her other hand to run down his back, as she slowly began to stroke her fingers up and down his hardness. His warm breath grew heavy as he stepped closer. He whispered her name in-between breaths filled with passion and longing. With one of his hands he brushed her hair away from her face as he leaned forward to kiss her. His wet kisses ran from her lips down her jaw to her neck, where he gave her such a warm wet kiss that she nearly squealed in delight.

"Tamina," he said, in a heavy voice, slowly removing her hand from him. "If you keep that up, I'm not going to be able to fully satisfy you… I want it to last."

She looked up at him, confused. "I… I'm sorry," she said, baffling, suddenly feeling silly. "I… I don't really know what I'm doing here. This is my first time."

Dastan caressed her face. She closed her eyes and eased into his touch. "I want it to be special for you, Tamina," he said. "I love you."

His other hand came down and softly bushed across her bottom before he scooped her up in his arms. Tamina could not help but let out a soft girlish giggly of delight as Dastan hugged her tightly, carrying her over to the bed.

"Tonight, Tamina, my princess," he cooed, kissing her softly. "Tonight, you are my whole world."

He laid her on the bed, resting her head against the plush pillows. His lips tenderly began dancing down her body, stopping and exploring her breasts before continuing down past her navel. Dastan's hands gently rubbed her thighs and she instinctively opened herself up to him.

Tamina arched her back as his mouth descended upon her, gasping his name in a breath of wild passion. She could never have imagined such pleasure. Her hands gripped his hair as he licked and sucked, lapping at her femininity. She was becoming so wet down there that she was aching to feel him inside. She wanted nothing more than to submit to him and welcome him into her being. To become a part of her.

Dastan caressed her legs as his lips danced their way back up her body, his hands softly touching her breasts, as he rose above her. He caressed her face, pushing her hair back to gaze upon her. He gave her a smile and rubbed her cheek with his thumb, his blue eyes gazing down into hers with such love that she hard to take a deep breath to remind herself this was not a dream.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Tamina gave a nod. "Yes," she replied.

Dastan bent down and captured her lips in his, kissing her. When he was finished, he leaned back, rubbing his hands up her legs to her thighs. "Just so you know, this might hurt a bit, but only for a moment," he said.

She gave a nod. She was ready. She was prepared. Tamina did not care what Astera had said, at this moment she wanted nothing more than for Dastan to be inside her. Adjusting herself on the bed, she opened her legs wider, begging for him to enter.

Dastan settled down, his eyes locked on hers. She could feel him pressing closer and then… she closed her eyes slightly and her mouth dropped just a bit as a short gasp escaped. He was inside her. The pain he had warned her about had been dull and slowly receded as he began to slowly move back and forth, replaced by a feeling of pure rapture she had never felt before.

Tamina could read the pleasure in his eyes as he moved inside her, but he did not look away from her. He kept his eyes locked on hers, as if his ever move was just for her, ever touch, ever stroke, was only for her and her pleasure.

He caressed her face. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?" he asked as he slowly pushed deeper into her.

Tamina closed her eyes and shook her head. "Oh no, Dastan," she gasped, feeling the pleasure ripple through her body. "No, it… it feels great."

Dastan smiled at that and reached out to hold on of her hand with one of his, while his other tenderly caressed one her breasts as he continued to move above her. Tamina pushed up into him, trying to pull him closer, she loved the feel of him inside her. Astera had been completely wrong. If her feelings had changed at all, now that he had taken her maidenhood, it was that she loved him all the more.

He did not do what the handmaidens had said their husbands had done. Dastan was not seeking only to please himself, but to please her as well. He kept asking her questions. How does this feel? Is that better? Tamina was overwhelmed by the sheer joy she felt. She had never felt this way before.

She gripped his face and pulled him toward her so she could kiss him as their love making heated up with more passion. Their bodies thriving, melting together, she swore they were becoming of one body and mind. Tamina wanted nothing more than for this night to last forever.


	8. Chapter 8

*Back to T rating.

* * *

**Persian Nights – Chapter 8**

Last night had been wondrous. Dastan wished it could have lasted forever. However, the pleasantness of his night's activities was disturbed in the morning when he woke with a splitting headache. Tamina was resting against his chest breathing contently, as his eyes fluttered open and the pain racked his brain.

Something was not right. He should not feel this way after the passionate lovemaking he had shared with Tamina last night. Slowly, he eased away from her and gently rested her head against the pillows. He took the silk sheet and laid it over her tenderly, gazing at her sleeping form lovingly. She was so beautiful. He could hardly believe he had finally gotten to be with her.

But then the pain called him back and he clutched his forehead, narrowing his eyes at the agony he felt in his mind. He turned around from the bed and his stomach clenched tight. The torment was spreading from his head to the rest of his body. He doubled over and fell onto the floor. He closed his eyes to the suffering, but it was too excruciating to bear and he was force to cry out in pain.

He must have cried out louder than he thought, because when he opened his eyes, he saw Tamina kneeling beside him, clutching his thriving body to her breast. He cramped and pushed off her as he threw his mouth opened and retched.

Such a terrible sight for Tamina, he thought, to see the man she'd just made love to the night before retching before her eyes. But when he was done, Tamina only soothed him, pulling over a cloth to wipe his mouth.

"Dastan?" her eyebrows knitted together in worry and confusion. "Why have you purged sand?"

"What?" he asked wearily, feeling exhausted after his retching.

His eyes flirted over to the spot where he'd retched and he stared in open shock. Instead of the standard retching of food and stomach contents was a pile of moist white sand. What was this? He slowly, tentatively reached out, but then the pain returned and he retched up some more sand. It came pouring out his mouth like a waterfall down a mountainside.

Tamina held him as he purged himself, her beautiful features etched in worry. She pulled him towards the bed and laid him against the side, as she fetched some water. She held up the cup to him and commanded him to drink in a stern voice. He obeyed. She was his wife and he would always obey her.

When the grogginess of his retching had subsided, he looked up into her eyes and furrowed his brow. "Tamina…," he whispered softly, his voice a bit hoarse from the sand that had come up through his throat. "What is going on? That white sand… it looks so much like the Sands to Time."

Tamina was leaning over the piles of sand he had retched and her eyebrows knitted together in worry. "I'm afraid you're right, my Lion of Persia," Tamina answered looking up. "Tell me everything that happened whilst you were down in the sacred place with the Hourglass of Time. Everything."

She returned to his side and clutching his hand as he recounted their trip down through the tunnels and his fall from the sand trap. How the Hassassin had appeared and nearly killed him, only to be saved in the last second by Tamina. How their first kiss and been for to brief for him, but they soon had to rush to the Hourglass, as Nizam was fast approaching. Dastan closed his eyes, as the anguish over her fall overwhelmed him for a bit, and he had to remind himself that she was alive, that he had reversed time and brought her back.

Tamina ran her hand down his face and told him that she would have done the same if it meant saving the world from the ravages of the great Sandstorm. That brought him little comfort; he never wanted to see her die. Never.

He told her of his battle with Nizam, and how when he pulled the dagger back out of the Hourglass he had been flung away in a torrent of sand and wind.

"Did you have your mouth open?" she asked, intruding into his retelling.

Dastan furrowed his brow. "I don't know," he said. "I was probably screaming from the fear of losing you that I don't remember."

Tamina shifted beside him, sitting down and holding onto his hand tightly. "Dastan… I think you might have accidentally swallowed some of the Sands of Time."

He looked at her like she'd gone mad. "You can't be serious."

She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed to the piles of sand. "Then how do you explain that, Dastan!" she snapped, heatedly. "You are correct, that is the sacred sand. Or do intend to go strutting about the palace like some arrogant princeling completely ignorant to what is front of you?"

Dastan could not help but smile at her fierceness. It was one of the many things he found most endearing about her. But she was right. It was the sand…

"Is this the reason for my loss of memory and… and my strange behavior the night before our wedding night?" he tentatively asked, hoping it to be true.

"I do not know about the previous night… you appeared drunk," she said sharply, then her voice softened, "however, as to the memories, maybe."

"What should we do, Tamina?" he asked, feeling lost.

His princess gazed at him for a moment, then a smile spread across her lips. "We'll have to go back to the Hourglass, and ask the gods for help."

Dastan swallowed past a lump in his throat. He did not know if he cared to see that place again. I brought back to many painful memories. But then his stomach cramped again and he felt the rise of another purge. He leaned away from Tamina and opened his mouth just in time as more sand came pouring out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Persian Nights – Chapter 9**

Tamina had been overwhelmed with the sight of her new husband doubled over on the floor at the foot of their wedding bed retching up the white sand. She had immediately recognized the fine grains as the Sands of Time. When he had finished, she questioned him and uncovered what she believed was the problem. Unlike normal sand, the Sands of Time held special proprieties that were not fully known. They were of the gods… so anything was possible. She just wished she knew exactly how it had happened and how so much of the sand had gotten into his system.

Now, leading him through a secret maze of tunnels and corridors, Tamina took Dastan down to the bowels of the Temple of Alamut. He recognized some of the passages, claiming she had taken him to them before. Tamina could not remember, but then again, there were many things she could not remember. Things that had been erased when time had been rewritten.

"This way," she said pulling him through a stone doorway. Once pass the threshold, she held up the torch to illuminate the great space before them. When they came to a halt, Dastan let out a groan beside her. "What?"

"Not this place again," he muttered.

Tamina looked back. The large cavern that stretched out before them was filled with sand and on the far end was the winch lift that would carry them down to the inner sanctum.

"We've been here before?" she asked. Yes, she had forgotten; the sand trap.

Dastan nodded. "And I hope we have a different experience than last time."

Tamina narrowed her eyes, but then shrug it off and proceeded. She held out the torch for him, as she stepped on the little raised tile in front of her. Puffs of air shot up along a crisscrossing path that lead to the lift. She turned back to Dastan.

"Dastan, step—"

"—where you step," he finished with a smirk. "Yes, princess, I remember."

She gave him a hot glare, but then smiled. "Right, follow me, then."

Carefully, Tamina made her way across the room, always minding her step. She risked a glance over her shoulder to make sure that Dastan was following and smiled to herself when she saw him glancing at her, his eyes slowly drinking in her lithe body as she moved with a dancer's precision.

She found herself blushing, remembering the activities of the previous night. Tamina could not have believed it was possible to feel such pleasure, but when she was with Dastan, she felt a blissful rapture that was hard to explain. He had brought her so much pleasure that for a time she thought she had died and was basking in the eternal glory of the gods.

"Tamina," he called out. "Watch your step, you're not paying full attention to your footing."

Tamina shot him a hard glare, not because she was angry at him, but because she knew how much it would excited him. He chuckled slightly and shook his head. "For someone who doesn't remember our previous time together," he said, smirking with his boyish grin. "You certainly know how to make me want you all the more."

"Well," Tamina snapped. "You should be thinking with you head instead of your manhood at the moment. We need to fix what is wrong with you… or it may end up being your doom."

Dastan sobered after that, and gave a grave nod. Though his eyes never left her. It took her longer than she had thought, but eventually she made it across the cavern. Dastan was right behind her and sighed visibly when they stepped up on the stairs towards the lift.

He smirked. "Last time I had to ride a wave of sand down."

"Thankfully this time you kept a cool head and did what I said," she replied.

"I followed your orders last time," Dastan objected as they walked up the steps, his smiling widening as he looked at her. "There were just unseen obstacles."

"Like Nizam?" Tamina broached cautiously.

Dastan lowered his eyes and gave a gruff nod. "Like Nizam," he echoed, but said little more than that.

XXX

The ride down the lift had been rather long, but Tamina did not mind. Dastan and her fondled and kissed on the way down. She loved the feel of his hands on her, the way it made her cheeks flush and heat, and the sensations it stirred up in the rest of her body. And she loved exploring his hard muscles and chest. He kissed her softly and whispered sweet promises into her ear. Promises, he claimed, he would keep when they returned back to their wedding bed. Her head began to spin with anticipation for that return.

However, when the reached the bottom, she quickly backed away, determined to stay clear headed enough to fix the damaged that had been caused to her husband. She had just been married to him for less than a day and she was not going to lose him now.

The Hourglass of Time stood before them casting a soft orange glow about the chamber. Dastan looked up at it with sad eyes, no doubt remembering the things he had witnessed in this chamber before. Tamina gripped his hand tightly, their fingers intertwining.

"I'm not leaving you this time, Dastan," she said firmly.

He gave her a weak smile, but remained silent. Tamina led him up to the Hourglass and stared at it for a time, thinking. If her father were still alive, he would have known what to do. But he had died when she was young, leaving her in charge of Alamut and its sacred duty.

Dastan's eyes fixated on the glowing sands underneath the crystalline surface of the Hourglass. He slowly reached up and touched it. Immediately he became stiff and his eyes locked open, glowing slightly.

Frightened, Tamina tried to pull him away, but he pushed her back with such force that she nearly fell over the edge. She blinked back tears as she watched the glow seep through his arm and encompass his entire body. Then the sands appeared and swirled around him, lifting him up into the air.

"The gods have you now, my husband," Tamina spoke softly, closing her eyes, and kneeling down to pray to them, beseeching them to return Dastan to her.

Suddenly a voice rang out across the chamber. It was wondrous and powerful, eternal and never-ending. She looked up and saw Dastan hovering above her with those glowing eyes, bathed in an orange light. Tamina realized the voice was coming from him, yet it was not his voice.

"Our priestess," came the voice. It was more than one, sounding like many voice speaking in unison. The gods!

Tamina bowed before the hovering form of her husband, kneeling before her gods.

"This man whom we possess must remain in Alamut," the voices rang out as one. "He is destined to be its protector, as he was destined to be your husband."

Tamina looked up, feeling her heart pound with a fury that belied how calm the expression on her face was. She humbled herself before the gods and bowed deeply. "I will do what I can to keep him here," she said.

"From time to time," the voices sang. "We may have need of his body. We have used him once before, and the aftereffects were not as we had expected."

His lost memories! What need did the gods have for a mortal body? Why did they need Dastan? And why did their use of him make him appear drunk afterwards? As if the gods sensed her questions, the hovering form of Dastan approached her. He reached out a hand and placed it on her head as a father would a daughter.

"We needed a man noble and pure of heart," the gods answered. "Some falsely believe that all princes are noble and pure. But that is not so. This boy, born in the streets, yet raised to be a Prince of Persia, is a prince in spirit. And he is a true prince. One with a heart that is both pure and noble. His destiny is great, and together you shall bring birth to a golden age throughout our lands."

The gods pulled Dastan back and brought him towards to the Hourglass.

"You must guide and counsel him, our priestess," the gods commanded. "He will need your strength for what he will need to do. As we shall need you to bare him a son from your womb."

And then there was a flare of bright orange light and the chamber returned to the warm glow of the shining sands from the Hourglass. Dastan lay slumped against the ground. Tamina rushed to him and clutched him to her breast, terrified at what she had just heard.

Dastan was destined to be the Hand of the Gods. She had always known of the prophecy, but had never thought she would live to see it. It terrified her that Dastan was to be their instrument in this world. But her heart soared with joy at the knowledge that their love had been destined and that together they would create a new golden age for Persia. And that she would bare him a son!

Slowly, his eyes blinking, Dastan awoke. "Tamina?" he called out her name.

Tamina smiled down at him and stroked his face. "You are quite a Lion, Dastan," she said softly. "And it appears that the gods have a plan for you." She told him all that had been said. When she was finished, he looked worried and relieved at the same time.

Then his eyes became hazy and dreamy. "Hey, there beautiful," he slurred and burped, his hand suddenly reaching up to grab her breast. His breath suddenly smelled of liquor and his eyes glazed over like a drunken man. This was the side effect that gods had not intended. For some reasons, possessing his body left him intoxicated.

Tamina blushed slightly when she felt his hand slowly began to intimately caress her body. But she stifled it. He'd touched her before like this, but when he was sober, and it had been wonderful. She shook her head, clearing it of her daydreams. She needed to get him back to the palace. He would needed to sleep of this inebriation.

"Come, my Lion of Persia," she spoke softly, pulling him up to his feet. "Let us get you to bed. The gods are not through with you yet."


	10. Chapter 10

**Persian Nights – Chapter 10**

Dastan woke midday with a pounding headache, but this one felt different than the previous ones. He turned his head to see Tamina sitting in a wicker chair reading through a scroll. She looked up when she noticed his eyes on her.

"So the prince finally decides to grace me with his company," she spoke in mocked indignation, smiling.

Slowly Dastan pushed him up to sitting position. "Tamina?" he questioned furrowing his brow. "Why do I feel like I've been out drinking?"

She gave him a wicked smirk. "The gods have chosen you, my husband, to be their Hand."

"What?" he said, racking his brain, remembering bits and pieces of what had happened. He remembered waking up to see her beautiful face gazing down at him and had vaguely paid attention to her when she had told him what had happened. And then in blast it all came back to him. "The gods possessed me…?" he muttered. "Why?"

Tamina placed the scroll she'd been reading down and stepped over to the bed and laid a hand on his chest, just above his heart. "Because you are noble and pure of heart, Dastan," she answered, smiling at him. "The gods say that you are destined for greatness. And that together, you and I will create a golden age in Persia."

"A golden age?" he raised an eyebrow. "How?"

Tamina looked at him with her fierce fiery eyes and smiled. "There is only one way to create such a thing, Dastan," she said, slowly removing her garments as she looked at him seductively. "We must conceive a child that shall carry on our legacy."

She slowly climbed onto bed beside him and Dastan's eyes beamed with desire for the woman he loved. He gave her his boyish grin as she leaned down to kiss him. His hands shot up and he pulled her too him. "I think I like this plan," he said, returning her kiss.

After they had made love, their afternoon was disturbed by a knock at the door. Dastan reluctantly pulled himself from the embrace of the woman he loved and draped a silk robe over his shoulders. He went to the door and opened it to find Tus.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Dastan," his brother said, giving him a knowing smile. "But father wishes to speak with you."

Dastan gave a nod, and told Tus he'd be right there. He returned to Tamina's side and pulled her into a kiss, running his hands through her silky dark hair. "It appears duty calls, princess," he sighed. "But don't worry, I'll be back shortly and we can continue."

Tamina smiled blissful. "I'll hold you to that, my Lion of Persia."

Dastan dressed quickly and made his way out to the great hall where his father was in deep talks with the Byzantine ambassador. Bis saw him and gave him a wink. "Enjoying your wedding bed, Dastan?" he asked, smiling.

He grinned at his friend. "If I enjoyed it anymore than I already do I'd not have the strength to walk."

Bis laughed slightly, but then stopped short when the ambassador's voice rose in anger.

"How dare you!" he shouted, his hawkish roman glare directed at Garsiv.

Garsiv stood abruptly and clenched his jaw. "I'll marry no plump sow, even if she were the last woman on Earth!"

"Garsiv!" Sharaman raised his voice, angered, trying to scold his son.

His brother turned to their father and bowed. "My apologies father," he said calmly, though his voice still held the same ferocity as to which he had directed at the ambassador. "But I will be no pawn in this emperor's hands. He seeks to take Persia from the Persians with this marriage, father. And I will have no part in that."

With that he turned and strolled briskly away, huffing indignantly. King Sharaman turned to the ambassador.

"Aulus, my apologies for my son," he quickly said. "I am sure he does not mean it. He is young and young men sometimes loose their temper."

"As do empires," the ambassador replied coolly. He stood. "I shall take my leave, King Sharaman. We shall talk again on the morrow." He looked in the direction of Dastan and Tus. "You have other sons to attend to."

The ambassador left the room, his jaw clenched tightly and his face growing red. The King slumped back down in his chair looking despondent. He looked up at Dastan and Tus as they approached.

"I do not think we can count on Garsiv to marry this Byzantine princess," Sharaman said. "Even if she is the sister of the Emperor."

Tus gave a nod. "I understand his feelings, father," he said. "My own marriages have not always been too kind to me."

Sharaman looked up at him, knowingly. "You speak of Astera, no doubt."

"Yes, father," Tus said. "I am sorry I cannot be the husband you were with mother that I am with her, but… she is… she is just difficult to get along with."

The King gave a nod and turned to Dastan. "And how do things go with you and the princess, my son?"

Dastan smiled warmly. "Very well, father," he replied. "We get along splendidly."

The King smiled, and gave him a knowing wink. "I shall not keep you from her long," he turned and gestured to Bis. Dastan's friend came over and laid out the map. Sharaman ran his fingers along the borders of the empire. "We are getting reports that the Hassassins have not disbanded like I had commanded. It appears that Nizam kept them in hiding at one of his many palaces."

Dastan gave a nod. He had known this, but had not said anything, hoping that the death of his uncle would have ended the matter. However, he had to admit, that such a thought was a little naïve, even for him.

Tus stepped forward. "I can see to them, father," he said confidently. Tus still wanted to make up for ordering the invasion of Alamut, albeit at Nizam's counsel.

Sharaman gave a nod. "You shall have it, Tus," he said. "As for you, Dastan, have you given any thought to what we spoke of yesterday?"

Dastan took a deep breath. "I think I understand, father," he said. "If I am to grow into the man I know I can become, I must sometimes choice the path that is not always the easiest. I shall stay in Alamut as you command and rule as viceroy with Tamina by my side."

Sharaman smiled, pleased. "She seems to be a good influence on you, my son," he said. "Keep her close, you shall no doubt be needing her advice quite often."

After seeing to some more business of state, his father finally released him, allowing Dastan to return to his bride. Entering their bedchambers, Dastan found Tamina sleeping. He smiled and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, before leaning over and kissing her forehead. She stirred at his touch and softly murmured his name, but did not wake. He pulled the blanket over her, tucking her in.

He turned to look at the scroll she had been reading earlier. He unrolled it and squinted at the words. Sure enough, it spoke of a prophecy concerning a prince not of noble blood who would become the Hand of the Gods. Dastan swallowed past the lump that had grown in his throat.

His father had been right. It appeared that he was, indeed, meant to be a great man. Dastan wondered if his father even suspected how great. To be the herald of a golden age was a heavy burden.

"Dastan?"

He turned at the sound of his name on her sweet voice. She was gazing at him with that hard stare of hers. Her hand reached out for him.

"Come to bed, my Prince of Persia," Tamina called. "And make love to me."

Dastan smiled and put the scroll down, allowing his fears and worries for the future to be brushed aside for the moment. Tonight he would be a husband with his wife. He stepped over to the bed, removing his clothing as quickly as possible, and climbed in, pulling her into his arms.

"I love you, Tamina," he whispered softly into her hear. "And I never want to be separated from you ever."

"Then shut up and kiss me before I seek company somewhere else!" she teased.

Dastan brushed her hair from her face and gazed lovingly at the beauty before him. Tamina, his princess… his wife. He gave her his boyish smirk and leaned forward, kissing her. Whatever the future held for them, he knew they would face it together; just as they had changed time, so too, would they write the future.

Together. As one.


	11. Chapter 11

*For those who read my crazy post on Thanksgiving Day, I apologize. After I posted it, I thought some more and changed my mind, deciding to stick with this story. So if I was the Men In Black I'd use the neuralizer to wipe your minds of that "epilogue." Unfortunately I can't, so I will simply ask for your forgiveness and understanding. Thank You. Comments are always welcomed.

* * *

**Persian Nights – Chapter 11**

So their first day as husband and wife had been interesting to say the least. Tamina had not expected that the gods would have done what they did. She'd talked to them before, when she bowed before the shrine of the Dagger of Time, but never in the manner she had the pervious day.

She was concerned for Dastan. What did the gods have planned for him? Why did they have to choose him as the Hand of the Gods? And what exactly was that? She tried to keep her anxiety and worry to herself, so she would not alarm Dastan. So Tamina put up a brave front and gave him that fierce attitude he liked so much. But always, inside, she was scared that being this Hand of the Gods would be the death of him.

Tamina did not want Dastan to worry. She preferred his thoughts center on other things… like the things he'd do with her in their marriage bed. A small smile always crept across her face as she remembered how he touched her, how he kissed her… how he made lover to her…

However, Dastan had enough troubles of his own, having to help his father in dealing with the Byzantine ambassador and accepting his new role as the viceroy of Alamut, than having to worry about what the gods had planned for him. Tamina would find those answers and let him play the prince.

The King was in talks with the Byzantine ambassador, trying to smooth things after Garsiv's comments the previous day. Dastan had risen early and had left their bedchambers to discuss things with Tus. Dastan had dealt with Hassassins in the forgotten time, as she was beginning to call it, and thought his counsel would help Tus. Apparently the Hassassins had served Nizam in the time that he'd erased. Tus's mission was to find them and arrest them.

The following day, Tus left with Garsiv to find the Hassassins, while the King and Dastan dealt with Ambassador Aulus of the Byzantine Empire.

Tamina spent her time in the library of Alamut, trying to discover what exactly the gods had meant when they had called Dastan, the Hand of the Gods. She was presently absorbed in a scroll from ancient times about a hero called Rustam, when someone coughed.

She looked up, startled, to see Parisa, Tus's second wife, standing off to the side. Tamina was surprised. She thought Tus's wives had already left to go back to Nasaf. Apparently they had not. Tamina gave Parisa a smile. "Parisa, sorry, I did not hear you come in," she said kindly, knowing that out of all of Tus's wives, Parisa was the one who had the least of her husband's attention.

Parisa gave a weak nod. "I did not wish to disturb you, High Priestess," she said in a soft voice. Tamina was surprised at how timid and afraid the princess looked. She stood and stepped over to the woman and placed a comforting hand on her arm.

"Is there something I can help you with, Parisa?" she asked.

Parisa looked at her with big sad eyes. "From how the handmaidens have been whispering around the palace, I understand that you have pleased Dastan very much," Parisa said, then looked away nervously. "I'm sorry… I… I just wish I knew how to please my husband in such a fashion. Tus has not been to my bed since our wedding night."

Tamina gave her a soft smile and gestured for her to follow. They made their way through the scroll cubbies until they reached a small terrace that overlooked the sacred city. Tamina led her to a cushioned bench, where they sat in the warm sunlight.

"To be honest, Parisa," Tamina answered, as they sat. "I don't know what I have done that has made Dastan desire me so. Or love me. But he seems very eager to please me. I'm sorry I cannot help more, I cannot imagine how it must feel to be married to a man who does not love you."

"I can handle that," Parisa asserted, trying to be brave. "It is the lack of attention that haunts me. I only see Tus at meals and prayers, and sometimes not even then. Most of his time, when he is not at war or on some mission for the King, is spent with Nesrine." She began fiddling with her hands. "I do not blame him for that… I just wished I were more than just part of a bargain the King made with my father for his loyalty. As long as I remain married to Tus, my people remain loyal to Persia."

Tamina gave a nod of understanding and gave her a pat on her hand, trying to comfort her. It felt odd listening to a woman talk about marriage problems. Tamina had never done this before and it felt odd to speak of husbands and marriage beds so openly with another person.

"He cares little for Astera," Parisa went on. "Yet even she gets his company in bed once every month. The price he must pay to maintain the alliance with the tribes of the southern peninsula."

Tamina took a deep breath, estimating that Parisa was about her own age, but unsure what she could say to help. "I really don't know how I can help," Tamina confessed.

"You can tell me how you have pleased Dastan in the marriage bed," Parisa insisted. "As I said, Tus has not been to my bed since our wedding, and even that was short." She looked out at the city. "He did not spend all night and the next day with me as your prince has with you. If I were to have a child… I would have something to live for." Parisa returned her attention to Tamina. "If I can please Tus in bed, perhaps he will give me a child."

Tamina knitted her eyebrows together. "Parisa… It is not my place to tell you what you should do, that should only be your decision," she said, trying to be gentle. "If Tus will not… lay with you, perhaps you can serve him as a wife in other ways."

Parisa looked up, confused. "How?"

"You can become an advisor," Tamina suggested. "Study the politics of the Empire and learn the names and places of the others kingdoms that surround Persia. Nesrine may be his favorite, and Astera may be his future queen, but you can be his confidant and counsel when he becomes king."

"You really think I could do that?" Parisa seemed more hopeful.

"All you need to do is set your mind to the task and I am sure you can do it," Tamina asserted. "If there is one thing I've learned from the short time I've had with my husband it is that if you set your mind to a task, you can likely accomplish it with enough hard work and dedication." She was, of course, referring to how Dastan had changed time and won her heart all over again, but she felt it best not to mention that.

Parisa smiled, and then frowned. "I… I don't know much about how to do such a thing though…," she looked at Tamina pleadingly. "Will you help me?"

Tamina smiled. "Well, for one thing, you are in the right place," she gestured back to the library. "We have scrolls that cover the history, politics, and religion of much of the known world, and maps as well."

Parisa began to look happier, then her eyes turned sad again. "I would still like a child though," she looked up hopefully. "Maybe if I please Tus in this, he would come to my bed and give me a child."

Tamina took a deep breath, but did not say anything, not wanting to get the woman's hopes up. Just then, the door opened and Dastan came in. He spotted Tamina with Parisa and strolled to the other side of the library to give them their privacy. Parisa noticed.

"I should leave," she said, timidly. "I… I believe your husband wants you again."

Tamina watched Parisa leave with a sorrowful expression. She felt sad for her to be trapped in an arranged marriage that would produce little to no joy in her life. Taking a deep breath, she turned to see Dastan walking up to her.

"Yes, Dastan, what is it?" she asked, noticing his expression.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything, but…," he took a breath. "The talks with the Byzantine ambassador are not going well, and I'm afraid there might not be any hope for peace. And I… I was hoping you might help."

"Me?" she asked, surprised.

Dastan took her hand in his and kissed it slightly. "Yes you, my princess," he spoke softly. "You diplomacy is as legendary as your beauty."

She gave him a smirk, but inclined her head. "If my Lion needs me to defend him against the big bad ambassador, then I'm more than willing to assist."

Dastan chuckled. "The Lion would like that very much."


	12. Chapter 12

**Persian Nights – Chapter 12**

The King was sitting at a table, looking thoroughly exhausted. He was trying to resolve the problem with the Ambassador, however it was clear the Byzantine was not pleased and wanted Garsiv to issue a formal apology for calling the Emperor's daughter a "pig."

Dastan and Tamina came walking into the room just in time. The ambassador was about to leave in a huff, when his roman eyes spotted Tamina. He stopped short and sat back down. Dastan offered his wife the seat by his father, and stood behind her, folding his arms, trying to keep his mind on the meeting and not on Tamina's posterior.

"Ambassador Aulus," Tamina inclined her head.

"High Priestess," the roman gave a nod. "What pleasure do we owe for your company?"

"I came to help," Tamina answered. "Both Persia and Byzantium have had their problems in the past, but there is no reason why both should continue this bickering over territorial borders."

The Ambassador huffed. "It is much more than simple territorial boundary disputes, High Priestess," he snapped, and then gave her an apologetic look. "I am sorry to be so hard, but it is the truth. There are insults that need answering for."

Tamina raised an eyebrow. "If every empire's went to war over every slight that was done to them I'd dare say there would be no empire's left."

The Ambassador laughed sharply in his roman way. "That may be true, High Priestess, but some things are hard to forget," he stared at Dastan. "If Prince Garsiv will not marry Vigilantia, then perhaps your husband will."

Dastan blinked. No, he would never do that. He never wanted to have more than one wife. He would prefer just have Tamina and no one else. Fortunately, before he could say something that would cause any further harm, his father spoke up.

"Dastan has just married, Ambassador," he said. "It seems hardly the appropriate time to start discussing another marriage so quickly."

"Well, then perhaps your other son—Tus is it?—would be inclined to taking another wife," the roman said, smirking.

Tamina looked up to Dastan and her eyes told him that that would not be a good idea. His father seemed to agree. "Ambassador Aulus," Sharaman said. "Perhaps you shall give me some time to speak with Garsiv. Given more time, I am sure his head can cool and he can be persuaded to…"

"Enough excuses," he stood, and bowed to Tamina. "I beg the pardon of you, High Priestess, but even slights such as this must be taken seriously. I will send word to Emperor Justinian. When I receive my orders, I shall return."

With that, the Ambassador left, his retinue following after him. Dastan shook his head. "I'm sorry, father," he said. "I thought Tamina's presence as the High Priestess of Alamut would have helped matters."

Sharaman gave a nod. "It is not your fault, my son," he said. "Aulus has a short temper, in many ways he is much like your brother Garsiv. They both rush into action without much thought of the consequences."

The King stood and his aide, Luka, came up to assist him. He waved the aide away. "I shall retire for some mediation and prayers." He started to leave, then stopped and turned back to look on the pair of them. "Hopefully cooler heads will prevail. I have heard good things of this Emperor Justinian. I believe he wants peace. Let us pray the rumors are true."

"We shall pray, you majesty," Tamina responded.

Sharaman gave them a warm smile, then left with Luka trailing behind him. Dastan sat down next to Tamina and reached over to pull the maps over. He looked down at the red ink that had been drawn on the parchment to indicate the borders of the warring empires.

"What it is that the Byzantines have against us, Tamina?" he asked, furrowing his brow as he ran his fingers across the lines.

Tamina sighed softly and looked at him for a moment before answering. "It is an old conflict, Dastan," she answered. "It stems from the days of Darius and Alexander, when Persia and Greece were at war. Most of the conflict involved the fight over the silk trade routes into Asia."

Dastan gave a nod, yet he did not fully understand it. Why should they care about trade routes? Didn't they have enough in their own lands to sustain them? He took a deep breath and looked up at Tamina, and was momentarily struck dumb by her beauty.

She smirked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Does my Lion wish to 'wrestle' again?"

Dastan grinned. "With you, Tamina, I'd 'wrestle' all day, if you let me."

He leaned over and kissed her.

XXX

Aulus watched as the ostrich he'd bet on collided with another and fell out of the race. He snarled and spat on the ground, tossing his ticket. He turned to find the proprietor. The man was a cheat and he was going to get his money back.

He made his way through the crush of scoundrels and cutthroats until he spotted the self-named Sheik. The man was dirty and smelled of the birds he kept, but he was friendly and spoke with a loud voice. The tall Nubian he kept by him narrowed his eyes as he saw Aulus make his way through the throng.

"You!" Aulus snarled, pointing a finger. "You cheated me!"

"Listen, Roman," the man replied. "You made a bet and you lost, get over it." He eyed him a moment with his devious eyes. "And if you're expecting me to pay a tax, forget about it. No one pays taxes here. Us small businessmen work to hard and slave beneath this burning sun, toiling away day and night to get enough coins to scrap by."

"Spare me your ramblings," Aulus rolled his eyes. "I can little for your business enterprise. I just want what money is owed me."

"You lost, your money is mine now."

"Give it back, you cheated me, your swine!" Aulus reached for the man, but the tall black man pulled out a blade and held it to his throat.

The self-styled Sheik smiled, gold glinting in his teeth. "Tell me, Roman, have you heard of the Ngbaka?"

"Of course I have, you've told me the story a hundred times!"

"Oh," he looked away and furrowed his brow. "Well, there's nothing quite like a good story."

"Have your savage remove his blade or you'll have to answer for this!"

"Seso," the businessman shrugged, giving the order with a nod.

The Ngbaka removed his blade and put it back into his belt. Aulus adjusted his tunic and glared at the Sheik.

"Well?"

"All bets are final."

"That's not what you told me not two hours ago!" protested Aulus.

"Oh, well… change of business policy, sorry," he turned to his Ngbaka friend. "Shall we go have some fermented goat milk?"

The Ngbaka frowned and gave a shrugged. They turned and left Aulus standing there red faced. He grounded his teeth and seethed. "Once the Empire conquers Persia, Sheik Amar," Aulus muttered under his breath. "You're head will be the first I have spike up before my governor's palace."


	13. Chapter 13

*The last part of this chapter was originally the prologue for my intended sequel _Hand of the Gods_, until I decided to combine the stories. It was posted briefly, but now it returns.

* * *

**Persian Nights – Chapter 13**

Tamina stood on their balcony watching as Tus and Garsiv came riding back into Alamut with the army trailing behind them. They did not look pleased. She tugged her robe tighter around herself as the wind blew across the hot desert below, and wondered what would become of her city in the undecided future if things were not patched up with the Byzantines.

She felt his arms wrap around her waist, as he stepped up behind her, and pulled her flush against his hard body. He lowered and nuzzled her neck. "I woke up to find my wife out of bed," he murmured softly, kissing her neck tenderly.

"Dastan," she said, trying to pull his attention away from lustful thoughts. "You're brothers have returned."

"Well, they can wait for the viceroy of Alamut," he murmured continuing his kissing, one of his hands drifting up to her breast.

Tamina pushed it away and turned on him. "Dastan, there are more important things going on! You must stay focus!" she glared at him hotly.

He smirked, his boyish grin spreading across his handsome face. "After two weeks of marriage, are you already growing tired of my attentions?" he asked, jokingly.

"No," Tamina lowered her eyes. "But we've been at it like rabbits, Dastan, and… and it is time you start seeing to your duties as viceroy, instead of constantly trying to get me with child."

"But I enjoy trying to get you with child," Dastan grinned, running his fingers down the length of her hair, and sighed. "All right, my princess," he said softly. He turned around and led her back into their bedchambers. "Then be a good wife and help your husband dress."

She gave him a playful punch in the arm. "You are not a boy anymore, Dastan... You can get yourself dressed!"

XXX

"Father has returned to Nasaf and taken your wives with him," Dastan informed Tus, more relieved to have Astera gone than the others. Nesrine and Parisa were more amiable and Tamina seemed to have been getting along with the later.

Tus, himself, looked relieved that Astera was no longer in Alamut, but he did look sad not to have Nesrine waiting for him. Garsiv just ignored the whole thing and stepped over to the table and rammed his fist down on the map, sending papers flying.

"Those Hassassins have gone to the winds!" he growled. "They were no longer as Nizam's palace."

Tus inclined his head, fiddling with his prayer beads. "We have to assume they have other places, Garsiv."

Dastan gave a nod. Tus looked over at Garsiv hesitantly, and then turned to Dastan. "Any news from the Byzantines?"

Garsiv narrowed his eyes and flushed slightly at the mention of them. Dastan stood from his regent's chair and stepped over to the table. "Ambassador Aulus returned a week after his last visit with news that Emperor Justinian wants the truce to continue… apparently the emperor is willing to send his sister here for Garsiv to see in person."

Garsiv looked up and scowled. "Seeing a roman pig in person is not my idea of a good time, Dastan."

Dastan and Tus exchanged a look and Tus was the one who spoke. "Garsiv, you must control that temper of yours," he said, taking in slow. "In time you must marry as Dastan and I have done. And if it is to this sister of the Emperor of the Byzantine Empire, all the best. We shall finally have an end to this war and we can focus on building peace and prosperity for our people."

Garsiv gave a snort and shook his head. "I shall never marry this roman pig they send. Even if they fluff her up in garlands and silks, a pig is a pig."

"Just speak with her, Garsiv," Dastan said, trying to remember the conversation he and Tamina had had with Ambassador Aulus when he returned with the Emperor's offer. Tamina had encouraged him to accept, so he did. If they could only get the girl here, then perhaps Garsiv might change his mind once he saw her. "From what the Ambassador has told us, this Vigilantia is consider quite a beauty in Constantinople."

Garsiv harrumphed. "Easy for you to say, brother," he retorted. "You have a beautiful desert priestess to come to your bed. And what a roman thinks is beautiful… to that, all I can say is that a roman wouldn't know beauty if it came in and sat on his lap."

Tus laughed slightly, then stopped when Garsiv glared at him. Dastan placed a hand on Garsiv's shoulder. "Then just speak with her when she arrives, Garsiv… that is all we ask."

His brother leaned against the table and glared off into nothing, taking a deep breath through his nostrils. "Fine," he grumbled.

XXX

Ambassador Aulus narrowed his eyes as he stepped through the darkened room. The air smelled of incense and foul drugs. He clutched the parcel to his chest tightly as he made his way through the hall, holding his breath so he would not inhale the fumes from the burning fire pits. The walls were painted and decorated with depictions of ancient battles and the pagan gods of old: Ishtar, Marduk, and Ba'l, to name a few. One the frescos pictured the Macedonian known as Alexander battling with the Persian Emperor Darius.

Aulus huffed. Persia had always been a thorn in the side to the Greeks. Then their successors were the Parthians for the Romans. And now there were the Sassanids for Byzantium. But Justinian had made his peace with King Sharaman, despite the rejected marriage alliance between the King's son Garsiv and the Emperor's sister Vigilantia. Aulus had traveled all the way to Alamut to meet with the King, and stumbled onto something he had not expected.

Apparently these Persians were even more foolish than he had thought. The King had adopted a street rat and made him a prince. Then he went and married that prince to the High Priestess of Alamut, who was now always at that prince's side. It was probably more thanks to her, than the prince, that Justinian had decided to send his sister to Alamut to meet Prince Garsiv, hoping that once the unruly prince met Vigilantia he might change his mind.

Aulus huffed. Oh how he missed the Imperial Empire, but gone was the glory days of ancient Rome, replaced by the followers of Christ in Constantinople in the Eastern Empire, now the Byzantine Empire. He did not consider himself a Byzantine. He still saw himself as Roman. And the Romans ruled the world.

But Byzantines did not. They had grown soft. Aulus bowed before the Christ god, but he did not believe. His god was gold. And he had only taken the ambassadorship to Persia for the contacts he could make with the Silk Road. That was how he had encountered the Sheik Amar and his silly ostrich races. He still felt bitter over the cheat, but knew that soon he would have his revenge.

Long ago, the city of Troy had been the West's contact for that road, but the Greeks had sacked it, seeking to gain control over that trade route. Now the Persians controlled it, and Aulus wanted to change that. He wanted more profits. And he was going to get them.

He coughed as he passed through a veil of smoke, and his eyes watered. He did not like this place, but it was necessary. These men had been named outlaws, and he had provided them shelter and a place to run their organization. But now, he expected them to return his hospitality.

Aulus walked past an opening and stopped, gazing down to watch the men practice with their weapons. They were the greatest in the entire world, and he was going to have them do his bidding.

He yelped as he felt the cold scales slither across his neck. A soft hiss issued from the snake as it slid past him and into the waiting hands of the figure in dark robes, who had just appeared before him.

"You breathe too loudly Roman," the Hassassin spoke softly, his eyes heavy with the drug he took. "Have you brought what I asked for?"

"Of course," Aulus snapped. "But I am not your delivery boy, Hassassin! I am your benefactor. You will serve me."

"Roman has a problem with his empire's policies?" the Hassassin asked, taking the parcel from him and slipping it into his robes.

Aulus narrowed his eyes. "The Emperor and the King have reached a truce. This must not stand. My associates and I have lost considerable profits due to the stoppage of war."

"You want an army, Roman," the Hassassin purred. "We are not an army."

"No, you are assassins," Aulus growled. "And that's what you do, you eliminate those your clients ask of you."

"You provide a target," hummed the Hassassin, his snake slithering through his arms. "You pay the price… we eliminate them."

Aulus leaned back as the snake swerved towards him. "Tell me the price and I will pay. I want a war, Hassassin. And you will get me one."

"Tell me the target, then I name price."

The Ambassador named the target. The Hassassin gave a soft smile.

"Well?" Aulus raised an eyebrow.

"For that target, the price shall be high."

"I will pay it," Aulus said. "Just make it look like the Persians did it."

The Hassassin bowed his head slightly. "It will be done, Roman."


	14. Chapter 14

**Persian Nights – Chapter 14**

"Dastan, look at this," Tamina held up the scroll for him to look at. He leaned over and his blue eyes gazed down at the words.

"What about it?" he said, scanning it, showing no understanding.

Tamina had to suppress the need to roll her eyes. He could be rather thick sometimes. "This mentions in more detail what the Hand of the Gods is. According to this, someone labeled with the appellation of Hand of the Gods is literally that; the Hand of the Gods."

He furrowed his brow. "I still don't understand, Tamina. Explain it to me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to determine whether he was teasing her or not, before continuing. "The Hand of the Gods must submit themselves to the will of the gods in order for them to act as the gods' representative in our world. Somehow, when you were with the Sands of Time, you made contact with the gods and they with you… and they have chosen you to be their Hand."

"Because I'm noble and pure of heart, isn't that what you said they said?" Dastan asked, looking more worried than ever.

Tamina inclined her head. "Among other things, yes," she replied, blushing a little, remembering how the gods had said that she was to give Dastan a son. She wondered if she had already become with child. They had been together some many times since their wedding night that she would be surprised if she was not.

Dastan looked at her for a moment. "What are you hiding?" he asked. "I can tell your hiding something back. What is it?"

"Nothing," she looked away from, concerned that her eyes would betray her. She stood up and took the scroll with her. Dastan jumped up to follow. She walked through the library focusing on the scroll, ignoring Dastan's eyes, which she knew was on her back, and slowly drifting down to her hips. She rolled her eyes.

"You can forget about that, Dastan," she said, knowing what he was thinking. "You need to focus on preparing for the arrival of the Emperor's sister. She'll be here shortly." She looked back at him and gave him a glare.

He smiled boyishly and shrugged. "I don't know if I can focus with your around, Tamina…," he stepped closer, reaching out to entangle her waist with his arms. "Your beauty is enchanting."

Releasing a light laugh, Tamina gave him a playful slap on his chest, before relenting to a kiss.

"_Ahem_!"

They turned from their embrace to see Tus standing in the doorway. He smiled at them and raised his eyebrow. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but state business awaits," he said looking at Dastan. "Ambassador Aulus has informed us the that princess is arriving in the city.

Dastan took a deep breath and inclined his head. He looked down at Tamina. "Come, my princess," he said, offering his hand. "My father did advise me to heed your counsel, and there's no other place I'd rather have you then by my side."

Tamina smiled and accepted the offer of his hand as they walked out of the library to join Tus.

XXX

Aulus narrowed his eyes and suppressed his rage. He did not like this at all. He had sent his objections back to Constantinople, but the emperor had paid his protest little heed. And now Vigilantia was arriving. Her escort had just entered the city and were making their way through the streets.

The Ambassador had positioned himself outside the palace, to await her arrival and be the first to greet her to Alamut. His retinue stood around him, and his guard, dressed in the imperial standard, flanked him. He was in the middle of planning out how he would convince the lady to turn away when he spotted the fiend.

"Guards!" he shouted, pointing at the man.

The guards immediately went out and grabbed him and bringing him up to Aulus. The Ambassador smiled.

"Where's you knife thrower, Sheik?" he asked mockingly.

"Acquiring more knives, of course," Amar flashed his shining gold smile. "What's this about? I told you before, Roman, I will not pay your taxes."

"I don't care about taxes!" Aulus fumed, and ruffled through Amar's robes until he found what he was looking forward. Removing his hand, he held up the coin purse. "I think this will suffice. My money returned, plus the interest."

"Interest!" hooted Amar. "If anyone is owed interest it is me! You never did pay your tab for all that fermented goat's milk you drank."

"It gave me a stomach ache," snarled Aulus. "So I saw no need to pay."

"Fine," Amar smiled. "Keep it. Just don't expect a warm reception when you return to the Valley of the Slaves."

Aulus waved at his guards. "Get him out of here."

The guards were just taking the self-named Sheik away, when the emperor's sister arrived. The litter pulled up and Aulus gritted his teeth, quickly hiding his newly acquired coin purse in the folds of his toga. When the curtain parted, he gave her a big smile and welcomed her to Alamut.

XXX

Dastan watched, slightly amused, as Garsiv paced back and forth, his face set in a permanent frown. Tus stood off to the side, fiddling with his prayer beads, while Tamina causally sat in her chair next to his. Originally the Persians had just installed one regent's chair in the great hall, but Dastan had them set another one up right next to his at an equal height and distance. Tamina was, after all, every much his equal and partner.

"Why so worried, Garsiv?" Dastan asked, trying to hide his mirth at the sight of his brother's pacing. "I thought you said you didn't care what she looked like, nothing was going to change your mind."

Garsiv glared at him, yet said nothing. The chamberlain entered the room and presented Ambassador Aulus. The roman strolled in looking peeved and angry, scowling. He stepped over to Dastan and Tamina and bowed before them.

"Greetings Viceroy," he said, and turned to Tamina, bowing lower than he had for Dastan. "High Priestess." He then turned to back to the chamberlain and gave a gruff commanding nod. The chamberlain banged his staff against the marble floor to silence everyone, not that it was necessary, the only people in the room where Dastan, Tamina, and his brothers. Garsiv stopped his pacing and stood silently beside Tus.

Aulus narrowed his eyes and raised a hand. "Presenting her imperial majesty, sister to the Emperor of Byzantium and the Eastern Empire, Lady Vigilantia of Bederiana."

They all turned towards the archway to see their first glimpse of the roman princess.


	15. Chapter 15

**Persian Nights – Chapter 15**

The first thing that happened was Garsiv's mouth dropped in astonishment. Dastan could not blame him. The entire room seemed to become painfully silent. Even Tamina looked shocked.

The Byzantine princess glided in with grace and nobility. She was tall and statuesque, with bright green eyes like emeralds and ringlets of soft brown hair tied and knotted together in the western fashion. She was, for a lack of a better word, simply stunning. Vigilantia looked very much like a goddess in human form.

And everyone in the room seemed to know it, even Tamina, who Dastan thought looked a little annoyed with how he was staring at the Emperor's sister, but she said nothing. He smiled to himself, knowing he'd reassure her silly worries later when they retired for the evening.

Vigilantia stepped up beside the Ambassador and inclined her head. "Viceroy Dastan," her voice was soft and supple, much more regal and noble than any roman Dastan had ever met. She turned to Tamina and smiled. "It is a pleasure to finally met the High Priestess of Alamut. I have heard so much about your sacred city. Thank you for allowing me to visit."

Tamina bowed her head, respectfully, and smiled. "Thank you, it is our honor to have the sister of Emperor Justinian come to see our sacred city and visit with us." Dastan just stood there gawking and Tamina had to elbow him in the ribs to remind him to speak.

"Yes," he smiled, bowing his head and taking Vigilantia's hand in his to kiss it. "Welcome to Alamut."

Vigilantia straightened her back and he could not help but notice her full breasts. He thought he noticed Tamina frown and look down at her own chest, as if she doubted her own womanly shape. He thought that was silly. Tamina was gorgeous and he wound not change a thing about her.

Dastan took a deep breath and reminded himself to think of the protocols of diplomacy that Tamina had taught him. He gestured towards his brothers.

"Princess Vigilantia," he said. "Let me introduce my brothers. Prince Tus, and Prince…"

"Garsiv," she finished looking at his brother with her stunning green eyes. Vigilantia stepped out across the floor to stand before him. "If I may say," she said, turning to look at the Byzantine Ambassador and then back at Garsiv. "You are much more handsome than Ambassador Aulus had led me to believe."

Garsiv's eyes were wide and it was like he had lost the ability to speak. Tus pushed him forward a bit and stepped back suppressing a smile.

"Princess…," Garsiv stammered. "I… Well… I… er... you are quite… um… beautiful."

He visibly reddened with embarrassment. Dastan had to suppress a laugh. This was so out of character for Garsiv. He had never known his brother to be left speechless like this. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he noticed Aulus twitch and scowl more than he normally did.

Vigilantia laughed airily and held out her arm. "Would the prince care to give me a tour?"

Garsiv took a quick breath and inclined his head, smiling. Dastan grinned, himself, trying to remember if he had ever seen such a smile grace his brother's lips.

"It would be my honor," Garsiv spoke, his voice more princely than Dastan had ever heard it.

Dastan watched as his brother took Vigilantia's arm in his and the two slowly strolled out of the room, the princess slightly leaning into his shoulder as they left.

Tamina turned to Dastan and raised an eyebrow. "I guess that went better than expected."

XXX

Aulus was livid. His orders had not been followed. He shoved his attendants out of the way as he entered his mansion. She was not supposed to have made it to the city alive. Why had they not killed her when she was in the open? He was infuriated. Something had to be done to begin the war anew. Emperor Justinian was weak and thought peace was the right way, but it was not. The Empire needed gold, and Aulus knew that profits would come with the war. They needed to take Persia and gain control of the silk roads.

He had seen how wealthy these Persians had gotten. That self-named Sheik Amar was a prime example. The man was loaded with gold and all he did was have stupid ostrich races. He huffed as he pushed through the haze of smoke and bounded down the stairs towards the basement, where his guests stayed.

Aulus turned the corner and came to an abrupt halt.

"Roman angry?" the dark figure asked, the soft purring of a snake issuing from somewhere in his robes. His glazed over eyes stared out from pale scared skin.

"I paid you for a service, and you have yet to complete it!" snarled Aulus. "I keep you in my home and what do you do? You allow her to slip through your fingers."

"Maybe priced asked was too low," the Hassassin replied as the snake's head appeared, sliding out of his hood around his neck. "Maybe price be raised."

Aulus narrowed his eyes. "Forget about her," he snapped. "I have someone better in mind."

"No return on previous price," the Hassassin said. "Target is target, cannot pull contract once placed," he licked his lips slightly as he pulled out the parcel Aulus had given him before. He opened it and dabbed his finger in the powder, before bring it up and touching it to his tongue.

Aulus watched as the man's eyes seemed to become even more fogged with the drug. He shook his head. "You are all just addicts!" he hissed.

"The drug gives visions," the Hassassin replied. "Sights and places yet to be, people. Lives lost and won. The visions guide us."

The Ambassador waved his hand, annoyed with such talk. "I do not care about your visions. If you would have killed her when you had the chance, we would not be having this discussion. And besides, you'll never be able to reach her now. She's within the safety of the palace."

"Palace walls do not stop us," the Hassassin purred, taking a soft breath with his nose. "Nor do canceled contracts."

"Well, then old off on it until I say so," Aulus said. "Besides, I have a new target, one that would far more guarantee the result I desire."

The Hassassin raised his eyebrow as if he was surprised, but said nothing, only nodding that he would, adding that as long as they were paid it would be done.

Taking a deep breath, his chest heaving with diminishing anger, Aulus named his new target. The Hassassin smiled demurely. "That target be worth more than the previous one… much more," he hummed. "Roman sure he wants to pay?"

"I pay you with my hospitality," he shouted back. "You do this for me and I'll consider it even."

"Manner of death?" cooed the Hassassin, caressing the head of his snake.

"I want a war, Hassassin," he snapped. "Make it brutal, make it fierce. Give me a war and you shall have a palace all of your own."

"No need of palace or temples," the Hassassin responded, his snake wrapping itself around his arms as he continued to pet it. "Price is all that is asked. You pay… we eliminate."

Aulus clenched his teeth together. "I'll pay. Just make sure this one dies when I say!"

The Hassassin looked at him with a gaze that unnerved him and he shrunk back as the snake hissed and snapped out at him. A smile crept across the Hassassin's pale lips. "The deed will be done, as long as price is paid."

XXX

"Have you seen Garsiv?" Dastan asked as he entered their bedchambers. "And where's Vigilantia? I thought we were to host her for an official prayer in the temple this afternoon."

Tamina looked up from the scroll she was reading and smiled at Dastan's worried face. She stood up. "I don't think we have to worry about impressiving the roman princess, Dastan," she said, softly, smiling. "I think Garsiv's doing enough of that."

Dastan gave a nod and ran his fingers through his hair. "She's nothing like I expected."

"Oh?" Tamina raised an eyebrow and slowly drifted to the door to close it. "And what exactly did you expect?"

Dastan shrugged, not paying attention to her whereabouts. "I don't know… not what arrived, that is for what sure."

"Are you regretting the prospect of taking her as a second wife as Ambassador Aulus suggested two weeks ago when you're father was still here?" Tamina asked, furrowing her brow, a little worried what the answer would be.

He turned around and grabbed her in his arms, wrapping them around her waist to pull her flush against his hard body, his fingers tickling the top of her bottom. "Not for one second, my princess," he hummed, desire filling his blue eyes. "You are more than enough woman for me."

Tamina sighed inwardly. She had worried when Vigilantia had entered and had seen how beautiful she was that Dastan would no longer finder her desirable. He leaned down and began to nibble softly at the skin between her neck and shoulder. Tamina smiled, feeling his awakened passion press against her thigh.

"Dastan," she cooed, running her hands around his neck. "It's only mid-afternoon. We still have a feast to prepare."

"Let Bis deal with the cooks," he said, pulling her up into his arms. "Right now, I want to make love to my wife."

XXX

The city was quiet, as it should be, as the dark figures slowly crept along the palisades and crenellations of the palace. A hooded figure with spikes jutting all around him descend behind the leader as the shadows made their way down into the quiet courtyard.

Dusk was upon them all, and no one was aware of their approach. Their task was set and the price had been paid. All that was left was for them to carry it out.

Breathing softly as he allowed the drug he had took an hour before to guide his moments, the Hassassin directed his compatriots to their work. His snake slithered around his shoulders, hissing softly, pleading to join in. He quieted it with a tender touch, as if he was wooing a woman. His pale face and scars testament to the hours of practice he had spent training the snake to obey his commands.

The air swooshed as the projectiles flew through it, catching the guards off balance, and silencing them within seconds. The braziers were lit, but with night falling quickly, provided little light. Still the dark figures could see, and they slinked along hidden in the shadows.

The door was closed, yet not bolted. Holding his finger up to his lips, the Hassassin, directed one of his brothers to the door. The man, slim and lithe, glided up to the door like a ghost and with expert care opened it, making not a sound.

"Now my pet," the Hassassin purred to his snake. He lowered his hand to the floor and his pet slithered out of his sleeve and began to crawl along the floor, going about her business.

The Hassassin's face was expressionless, his eyes dulled and grey with his drug as he saw visions of things no one else would understand. It was his world, his spirits that told him how to do what it was he did. They were his gods, the spirits of the slain, coming to help to speak through the drug.

As his snake came back out, she slithered up into his waiting palm and rubbed her scaly head against his cheek, informing him that the room was clear. He turned and nodded to his comrades. Slowly, one by one, his brothers slipped into the room. He waited until the last one had entered before going in himself.

Snaking his hands around the edge of the door he pulled it closed and smiled. Tomorrow, an empire would grieve and a war would begin.


	16. Chapter 16

**Persian Nights – Chapter 16**

The news came during the early glow of dawn. Messengers came barreling through the streets, kicking their horses into a rich lather. A servant came to wake them, and Dastan grumbled as he sat up, shaking his head clear of the fog of sleep. Tamina stirred and stretched her arms, quickly retrieving a thick robe to cover herself, as Dastan pulled on his trousers and a tunic. Tying the robe tightly around her waist, she held his hand as they made their way to the audience chamber.

Tus was already there, looking bleary eyed and tired, he stifled a yawn as he greeted them. Garsiv entered with unruly hair, wearing a frown on his face, with told them all how displeased he was to have been woken at such an early hour. Bis, it appeared, had been up for some time. He was the only one of them who was alert enough to signal for the guards to let the messenger in.

The man came in, covered in dust and sand, sweat beaded his brow, as he removed his helm and dropped to one knee before Tus.

"The King is dead," the man proclaimed, and then looked up at Tus. "Long live the king!"

Tamina felt Dastan stumble beside her, and she had to grab his arm to hold him up. Luckily they were close to their chairs and she sat him down in his, holding him as he opened his mouth to sob. Garsiv dropped to his knees, his frown replaced with the look of grief. Tus stood there, mouth opened and eyes wide, unable to saw anything. Tamina took a deep breath, knowing she was going to have to be the one to speak.

"When?" she asked the messenger.

The man turned to her and bowed. "It was early in the evening, High Priestess," he responded. "It was brutal."

"Who?" Tus finally spoke. "Who did this?"

Tamina looked away and turned to her husband. Dastan took a deep breath and looked up to watch. Tamina helped him stand, he clutched on to her, his grief still close. "Not again…," she heard him mumbled, and then she remembered what he had told her about what had happened in the time he had changed. She closed her eyes and felt sorrow for her Lion of Persia.

"No one saw," the messenger looked ashamed. "But we did find this…" the man reached into his robes and pulled out a weapon covered in a tan cloth.

Tentatively, Tus reached over and picked it up, unraveling the cloth to reveal a blood soaked sword. "Is this… this the weapon?"

The man nodded. Garsiv stood and snatched in from Tus. "It's a gladius! The roman pigs have betrayed us!" Tamina thought Garsiv looked the most betrayed and hurt out of all of them. He and Princess Vigilantia had become fast friends and it was clear he enjoyed his time with her. He had never left the Byzantine princess's side during the entire feast last night.

"Get the Byzantine Ambassador… NOW!" Tus roared.

Guards immediately rushed out the room to see to it. The messenger then removed another item from his robes and held it up towards Tus. Tamina stared at it and felt tears of her own, remembering the last time she had seen it, laying as if it belonged, on the top of King Sharaman's head.

Garsiv was still too rapt up in the betrayal to notice, and Tamina felt Dastan move. With her by his side, he walked over to the soldier and picked the crown up in reverent hands. He turned towards Tus with teary eyes.

Tus lowered himself to his knees and bowed his head. With great care, Dastan placed the gold crown on Tus's head. Taking a deep breath, Tus rose and gave a solemn nod to Dastan before they hugged.

"Us brothers must remain strong," Dastan whispered softly. "Father would've wanted that."

Garsiv came over and the three brothers grieved together for their loss. Tamina turned as the guards came rushing into the room.

"He's gone, High Priestess," they informed her.

Tamina took a deep breath. "And the princess?" she asked.

"Still in her chambers, apparently unaware that anything has happened," the man informed her.

"Have her locked in the dungeons!" snarled Garsiv.

"NO!" Tamina practically shouted. "She is not to be blamed for this." She knew how it was for women amongst kings and empires. She'd seen what it was like for Parisa, and knew that it must be the same with Vigilantia. The roman princess was nothing more than a pawn in a deadly game of tug-of-war between empires.

Dastan took a step forward and looked like he was going to object. Tamina gave him a heated glare that stopped him in his tracks. "She is not to be harmed," she spoke loudly as to make sure that all would hear. "As High Priestess of Alamut, I place her under my protect. No one is to touch her!"

The guards all bowed. "As you command, High Priestess," they spoke in unison.

"I am the King!" Tus said, stepping forward. "And I will have her questioned. She was obviously brought here as a decoy."

"Enough!" Tamina shouted. "King or no, you are still a guest in my house. I will be heard!"

"Dastan," Tus huffed. "Control your wife."

Dastan stepped forward, and frowned. He grabbed her arm roughfully and pulled her close. His lips went to her ear. "Now is not the time for this, Tamina," he growled.

Tamina glared at him hotly, and removed his hand. "Men!" she snapped at them, backing away from her husband. "You know nothing about what it's like to be a woman in this world; to be traded and bartered like you were nothing but goods for sale! By the gods, Tus, all of your wives were practically sold to you for their fathers' loyalty."

Tus's eyes narrowed with indignation, but he did not speak. She knew he saw the truth in her words. She turned and glared at Dastan.

"And you should know better, my husband. Our union was…," she faltered a little bit, but quickly regained her composure, "…was not out of a mutual love and respect for one another, but rather a political alliance between Persia and Alamut." It hurt to say it, but it was true. Despite the fact they did have love, their marriage had originally be arranged by Tus as a marriage of alliance. She folded her arms across her breasts and huffed. "Now, I am going to see to our guest." Tamina narrowed her eyes at Dastan, giving him a fierce glare. "I suggest you look for the true rat in our midst, instead of blaming the woman."

Dastan gave a nod of understanding. "Ambassador Aulus."

Tamina gave a nod. "Now be princes and kings," she snapped. "And track down this fiend!" With that, she spun on her heals and marched out of the room. It was not before she was out of sight that she bursts into tears. It had been so hard to yell at Dastan like that, but someone had to be the strong one, someone had to think straight.

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Tamina wiped the tears from her eyes and continued on to the chambers of Princess Vigilantia.

XXX

"Ha!" Aulus kicked his legs to encourage his mount to quicken its pace, but the horse was growing tired. He had left Alamut early in the evening, just after the feast. He knew that the princess was going to be the one held accountable for the murder of the king, but he did not care. This was going to get him the war he wanted.

"Faster, damn you!" he grumbled at the horse, and the beast began to slow. Its dark hide was covered in a thick lather of sweat.

Suddenly he heard a swirling sound and something hard hit his shoulder, sending him flying off his horse. He cursed and shouted obscenities as the horse went on its way, leaving him in the desert alone. "Why didn't I bring my guards," he grumbled. He shook his head; no, that would have looked suspicious if a whole escort of roman guards, dressed in all their finery, had escorted him out of the city. He had to get out alone, while no one was watching or paying attention to a lone traveler.

He turned and looked at his shoulder to see a small dagger protruding from it. He growled and pulled it out, suppressing the pain he felt. Fortuitously, it had not punctured his skin that deeply, so no really harm had been caused to his person. He was just a little shamefaced about being knocked from his horse. Aulus held the dagger up to examined and thought it looked eerily familiar.

Suddenly shadows were all around him and spears were pointed at his throat. "Did I ever tell you about the Ngbaka," came an irritatingly recognizable voice.


	17. Chapter 17

**Persian Nights – Chapter 17**

The King was dead, yet there was no time to grieve for his loss. Despite all the pain he was feeling at hearing that awful news again, Dastan knew he had to do what Tamina had said. He had to find the Byzantine Ambassador. If there was anyone who would have been behind the assassination, it would have been him. He had been displeased with Vigilantia's arrival and how she and Garsiv had hit it off.

"We have to find the Ambassador," Dastan told his brothers.

Garsiv was still clutching the gladius in his hand. "Perhaps I should speak with Vigilantia," he said.

Tus shook his head and placed a hand on Garsiv's shoulder. "Not right now, brother," he said, knowingly. "I believe our brother's wife will be seeing to that. Let us focus on what Dastan has suggested. Ambassador Aulus would be a prime suspect for this heinous crime."

Garsiv's nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed. "That roman pig shall pay for father's death!" he growled.

Dastan raised his hands to calm him. "Let us first make sure he is truly guilty before we condemn him," he said, remembering how quickly his brothers had turned against him in the other time. He did not want to hunt down a kill an innocent man, though at the moment he found it highly doubtful that Aulus was innocent.

He sent Bis out to find some Persian soldiers. The palace was mainly occupied by Alamutians, and Tamina had insisted that no soldiers other than those blessed by her order be allowed to guard the sacred temple. He had obeyed her wishes, but now was beginning to doubt them. Bis returned in short order with Captain Faraz and some of his men of the Persian army left to guard the city under Dastan's command. Tus's army was camping outside the city gates, so his captains were too far for the urgency required.

"Faraz," Dastan stepped over the man. "I need you and your men to search the Byzantine embassy for any trace of the Ambassador. And do it quickly. Time is of the essence."

Faraz nodded and immediately departed with his men to see to Dastan's orders. Tus looked worried, the crown appeared to be heavy on his head. "Dastan…," he broached, fiddling with his prayer beads. "Do you think that the Byzantines would have killed father?"

He did not know how to answer that question, so he was honest with his brother. "At the moment, I do not know," Dastan replied, sighing. "We have to find Ambassador Aulus. Only then will we know for sure."

Garsiv gave a nod and handed the gladius to Bis, who held it out from him like it was a deadly asp. "I will help the city guards look for the pig!" he declared and stormed out of the room before any could stop him.

XXX

Tamina found the princess sitting on the stone bench on the balcony, looking out at the city. Vigilantia looked up to see her approach and stood to bow. "High Priestess, forgive me, I did not hear you enter."

"It's all right," Tamina assured the princess.

Vigilantia gave a weak smile, but it was forced, and the distress was clear on her face. "Is it true?" she asked. "Is the King dead?"

Tamina gave a nod. "I'm afraid so, Prince… King Tus wanted you to be questioned, but I forbade it."

The woman shifted uncomfortably and looked down. "Am I a hostage, now?" she asked meekly.

"No, not at all," Tamina said, reaching out to place a comforting hand on the princess's arm. "You are our guest here, and I will not have you treated like a criminal." She took a breath. "However, I do think it would be wise if you kept yourself sequestered in the palace and limited your movements. I may have convinced my husband to respect my wishes, but I cannot speak to his brothers."

"Garsiv would never harm me," Vigilantia asserted as if she had known the prince for her entire life.

Tamina sighed, remembering how she had felt when she had first been told she was to wed Dastan. "You have not known him for that long… he has a short temper and acts rashly," Tamina said. She bit her lower lip and rubbed her hands together. "He wanted you thrown in the dungeons."

To her credit, Vigilantia just blinked. "Oh," was all she said. She turned and looked out at the city as the sun continue to rise. "Are we just tools for our fathers and brothers?" she asked to no one in particular.

Tamina stepped up and stood beside the princess, joining her in gazing out at the sacred city. "Sometimes, yes," she answered. "My marriage to Dastan was to unite Persia and Alamut. But I have grown to love him, and he… well, he loves me."

Vigilantia sighed. "Then you are one of the lucky ones," she replied and slumped down on the bench. "I was worried at first, when my brother sent me out here. I was afraid I was going to be given away to some barbarian prince… I had not expected to be confronted with a man like Garsiv."

"You like him," Tamina stated, narrowing her eyes.

Vigilantia looked up with her emerald eyes. "Yes, I do," she admitted. "And… and I thought he liked me. If he was so willing to throw me into the dungeons because of my relation to my brother… how can… how…?"

"How can you ever truly know if he actually felt anything for you?" Tamina finished. She shrugged. "I cannot answer that. But, I will say this… right now, the three brothers of Persia are grieving the loss of their father. Given time, I believe they will see reason."

Vigilantia nodded. "They blame Byzantium, don't they?"

"Yes," Tamina answered. "It would seem the only logical choice."

The woman shook her head. "My brother would not do this," she said vehemently. "He inherited this war from our uncle. Justinian wants a lasting peace. That is why he was willing to send me all the way here from Constantinople."

"Well, if that is the case," Tamina said, patting Vigilantia's hand reassuringly. "Then I'm sure everything will turn out just fine."

XXX

Dastan walked through the threshold and into the mansion. He sniffed the air and recognized the scent as the same he had smelled when he had been in close contact with one of the Hassassins. He lowered his brow and cursed softly, knowing how his father had been killed and who had order it. Now the only question was whether the Ambassador was acting on behalf of his emperor or himself.

He walked around the place, looking for any evidence which could tell him as to where the Ambassador had fled. Captain Faraz was questioning the embassy's guards. The Byzantines all shook their heads and claimed not to know anything. Dastan ordered them held and questioned further. Babak, the Captain of the Alamut guard, appeared and gestured to Dastan.

"Yes?" he asked the man. Babak had been the man assigned to take the dagger out of Alamut when they had invaded, and he was the one who had lost it to Dastan in a fight. He still seemed to hold a grudge about that, but his temper had softened when he saw how much Dastan pleased his High Priestess.

"Prince," he bowed his head. "We found what looked like training rooms in the basement, and evidence in fire pits of heavy incense use."

Dastan gave nod. He had expected something like that. "It appears Aulus was the one hiding the Hassassins," he told Tus, as his brother—the king—entered with his retinue.

"Then he must be the one responsible for father's death," Tus said, looking wearily around the vestibule.

Babak stepped aside to all Garsiv to come up. His brother looked peeved. "This roman pig is going to pay for the crimes he has committed," he said, holding up a cloth parcel, letting it fall to the floor. As the cloth unraveled, half a dozen gladii fell and clattered to the ground.

Faraz returned and bowed to Tus, before reporting. "The gate guards reported seeing a man matching the Ambassador's description leaving the city early last evening."

"Do they know which direction he was heading?" Tus asked.

"Towards the Valley of the Slaves, your majesty," Faraz replied.

Dastan blinked. He'd been there, not in this time, but in the time before that had been erased. "Let me go, Tus," he said. "I've had dealings with a Sheik in the Valley of the Slaves."

Tus and Garsiv exchanged a confused look. "When was this?" the former asked.

"It does not matter," Dastan said, waving his hand to dismiss the issue. "The point is, I know the man, and I can deal with him…" at least he hoped he could.

Tus gave a nod. "All right, Dastan," he said. "Take Bis with you, and you probably should take—"

"No," Dastan interjected. "I should go alone. This Sheik will not respond kindly to more than one Persia. I will go alone."

"Someone must go with you, Dastan," Garsiv protested.

Dastan shook his head, setting his mind to the task ahead of him. "This is something I have to do alone," he clasped hands with Tus. "Do not worry, brother. I shall return with the villain. You have my word."


	18. Chapter 18

**Persian Nights – Chapter 18**

He rode out early the next morning, alone with nothing but a sword and some supplies. The desert greeted him warmly and he closed his eyes, wishing Tamina were with him. A small smile creased his lips as he remembered his first few days with Tamina after they had fled Alamut in the changed timeline. Her fierceness and stubbornness, not to mention her clever little mind, which had almost cost him the dagger, was so enticing and intriguing at the same time. It had been that spark in her spirit that had first attracted him to her. And yes, she was very beautiful. It was all he could do to stammer when she declared that was the reason he couldn't keep his eyes of her. She was right about that, but he'd never admit it.

Of course none of that happened with the Tamina that was now his wife. She was still Tamina, and she had shared his bed… many times… but she still did not know him the way the other had. Thoughts of wanting nothing than to be with her, and his duty pulled at his soul, confusing and vexing him. He had to go to the Valley of the Slaves and see if Ambassador Aulus had fled there, but at the same time it hurt to be away from Tamina. Seeing her drop into the abyss had been painful. He had almost given up hope then. But his duty had called him back and gave him the strength to defeat Nizam.

Now, he had to stop another fiend. And this time, he could not bring his father back. But at least he could avenge him.

Despite his torn heart, Dastan knew he had to do this by himself, even if he wished Tamina could be with him. Now that he had recaptured her love, he was not about to risk losing her again. He loved her too much to even contemplate such a thing.

He pulled on the reins of his horse and rounded a corner, only to come face to face with his worse nightmare.

"TAMINA!" he shouted, glaring across the sands at her.

She gave him a fierce smile and urged her mount closer to his.

"I thought I told you to stay at the palace, _princess_," he snapped, suppressing the smile he wanted to give her. Even though he was angry with her, it brought his heart much joy to see her beautiful face.

Tamina gave him a defiant look and brought her horse along side his. "If you think that I am going to let you out of my sight," she said in that hotly irritating, yet lovely, way of hers, "then you should be committed to some sanctuary for the mentally imbalanced."

"I love you, too, Tamina," he replied, finally giving her his boyish smirk.

She smiled at him and kicked her horse forward. "Now, try and keep up," she called back as she rode out ahead.

"Yes, my princess," he shouted back. "Though, you're going the wrong way!"

XXX

"So," the self-named Sheik said, strutting about in front of him in arrogantly long strides. "According to you, you don't owe me any money?"

Aulus spat on the ground, as a physician worked on his injured shoulder. "You know very well, I don't owe you any money, swine!"

The Sheik turned to the physician. "I think our Roman friend would rather lose the arm." The man inclined his head and began to back away.

"No, wait!" Aulus shouted, grunting through the pain. "Fine… my left pocket."

Amar ruffled through his robes and pulled out the coin purse. Aulus sighed when the physician returned to tend to his shoulder. The wound had been worse than he had originally thought. Apparently, according to the man, he should not have pulled the dagger out on his own. His carelessness had caused the wound to fester. The pain was excruciating at times, but at least the "noble" Sheik Amar was not stupid enough to let him die.

Presently, Amar was jiggling the coin purse in his palm to judge the weight. After a time, he smiled. "Yes, very good my Roman friend, this shall be the first installment in your fee."

"Fee!" hollered Aulus. "What fee?"

"The fee for passage through the Valley of the Slaves, of course," Amar said. "Oh, and late charges, as well."

"Late charges!" echoed Aulus, fuming, but he bit his tongue, knowing he had to stay his anger if he was to escape this pit of hell.

"You lost your bets, failed to pay, then drank fermented goat's milk, and failed to pay…," Amar laughed and looked over at his dark skinned knife thrower. "Need I say more?"

The Ngbaka shrugged and turned away, bored. Amar lowered his brow.

"What? I think I'm being fair," the Sheik protested.

The Ngbaka just shook his head and left the cave. Amar waved his hand in the air. "I don't need your approval." A man in a dark turban came up and whispered into Amar's ear. "Really?" his eyebrows raised and his crafty eyes looked ready for mischief. He turned to Aulus and smiled, his gold tooth glittering in the torchlight. "Seems there might be another way for you to pay your debts, Roman."

"Oh, and what's that?" Aulus snapped back, turning his eyes to watch the physician work on his shoulder.

Amar gave him a wink and laughed. "Apparently the Persians are looking for you… and if I play my cards right," he placed his hands on his sides and smiled. "Which I usually do… I'll negotiate quite a handsome reward for turning you over to them."

XXX

After correcting her error, Tamina and Dastan rode east for a time, and stopped in a small rock outcrop for the night. Dastan tended to the horses, as she worked on the fire. She heard a ring of steel and turned to see Dastan pulling her saber from its scabbard. He looked over at her and grinned.

"I almost forgot how good you were with a blade," he said, before ramming the blade back down, and continuing with seeing to her horse.

Tamina looked up at him from across the fire and narrowed her eyes. Yet another thing he had learned about her from the erased timeline. She folded her legs and sat in front of the fire, fiddling at it with a stick.

"So… how is it that you came to fall in love with me, my Lion of Persia?" she asked, gazing over at his marvelous backside, as he bent to clean the horse's hooves.

"Well…," he huffed, working on a clump of clay stuck to the hoof. "We escaped from Alamut when Garsiv ordered by arrest, and rode out into the desert." He grunted as the stuck clay came loose and dust kicked up into his face. "Then… well, you seduced me."

"What? Me?" Tamina furrowed her brow. She could never imagine herself trying to seduce a man she barely knew. "How? Why?"

Dastan looked up at her with his eyes, sparkling with amusement at her flustered look. "I explained to you that Tus told me that if he could not have you, then I should kill you. Then you said, the answer to that was to kiss you, then kill you."

Tamina harrumphed and crossed her arms. "Hardly sounds like me," she gave him her famous heated glare. "I am not some common street harlot, Dastan. I am a priestess of Alamut. I know next to nothing about seducing men."

"Oh, but its true, my sweet princess," he said. "And you were very good at it, too." He winked, finishing with the horse, and then he stepped around the campfire to set down next to her. He placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She gave a huff, but relented to his touch and eased into his shoulder.

"So?" she asked, tentatively. "Did you kiss me?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "You see, at the time, you wanted to get the dagger back from me… so… well, let's just say you showed me your skills with a blade." Dastan smirked and rubbed her arm tenderly. "Luckily for me, I discovered how to use the dagger before you could kill me."

"Kill you!" she backed away and looked distressed. "Me? Kill?"

"Well, the first time we just fought over the dagger and it got flung away and stuck in the sand," Dastan gestured over to an area of sand not far away. "Over there. I ran, skidded to my knees and when I picked it up, I had accidentally hit the jewel button on the hilt."

"And you went backwards in time," Tamina nodded, knowing how the dagger worked.

"Yes," Dastan smiled. "But I was confused. You took advantage of that and sliced my chest open with a sword."

Tamina's eyes grew wide. "Thank the gods your not such an idiot that you knew enough to use the dagger again," she let a breath out and leaned back into his arms, running his fingers down his chest, trying to wipe the image of her striking him with a blade from her mind.

Dastan chuckled slightly. "It took you a while, but eventually, after much hardship, you finally told me the truth about the Sands of Time."

"I do not know if you should thank me for that," she said. "If I had not convinced you to go down with me to change time… you would not be the Hand of the Gods."

Dastan shrugged. "As long as I have you, Tamina," he said softly, nuzzling her neck. "I will take whatever the gods send."

He made to push her down to the sand, his hands moving to cup her breasts. "Dastan!" she raised her voice, pushing him back. "I do not think it wise that we distract ourselves while we are alone in the desert… there could be bandits and fiends about."

Dastan took a deep breath, but complied and backed up to a sitting position, giving a shrug and smirk. "Can't blame a guy for trying, princess," he said and kissed her brow.

Tamina sighed and looked down at the fire, wishing she could give him what he wanted. The hard ride across the desert had left her flushed with excitement at being alone in such an inhospitable environment with the man she loved. And his talk of them in the other timeline, only made her want him all the more. Not to mention it was going to get cold tonight. Deserts were always like that… hot in the day, cold at night.

She raised an eyebrow and looked over at him. "Perhaps if we are quick," Tamina said, looking deeply into his eyes with all the wanton desire she could call forth.

"Quick!" Dastan grinned, smirking like a naughty little boy. "I'd prefer to melt into your body, but if you're willing to grant me anything, I'll take it."

Tamina laughed softly as she climbed up into his lap, straddling him with her legs. "Then show me how much of a Lion you are, my naughty prince." She leaned forward and kissed him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Persian Nights – Chapter 19**

"Just stay close to me, Tamina," Dastan called back, as they passed through the crack in the mountains that led them to the Valley of the Slaves. The skeletons that hung before the entrance were bleached white by the sun, and Dastan smirked as he remembered that Sheik Amar had told him he had bought them from some gypsy.

"Really, now, Dastan," Tamina replied. "Do you really believe I cannot take care of myself?"

Dastan raised an eyebrow at her and smiled, knowingly.

"What?" she hooted, glaring at him. "Are you remembering something from the other timeline… because, if you are, you better wipe that smirk of your face, my Persian prince, or you'll get a smack in the side of the head."

Dastan rolled his head back and laughed. "Last time we passed through that gap, you told me that all us Persians were desert shriveled and dry."

"Oh," she raised her eyebrows. "Well, just for the record, you are!"

"Really?" Dastan reined his horse in and maneuvered over to Tamina, his lips curled into a tight smile. "Because I don't think neither of us were really dry last night. Sweaty and warm, yes. But dry? No."

"Really now, Dastan," Tamina rolled her eyes. "Is your mind always focused on—?"

She was cut off by the whinny of a horse. Dastan turned his head to see a rider approaching them from over the rise. The man held up his hand to show he meant them no threat. As he approached, Dastan noticed the man wore a dark turban around his head, and he looked somewhat familiar. Yes… he was one of Sheik Amar's men.

"You Prince Dastan?" the man asked, breathing heavily, evidently from the fast ride. His horse was sweaty and snorted; obviously displeased with the pace its rider had set.

Dastan gave a cautious nod, one hand slipping down to rest on the hilt of his sword. The man gave him a toothless smile.

"I am Taj," he said. "The honorable and noble Sheik Amar bids you welcome. I have a message for you."

"Do you now?" Dastan inquired. "And what is it?"

Taj brought his horse closer. "We have the Roman."

XXX

"It is really necessary to chain my feet to the ground?" Aulus demanded over the self-name Sheik. Last night has been abysmal and he had hoped for a better day. Though he was glad he was no longer cooped up with the ostriches. That had been terrible.

Amar grinned at him with his golden smile. "Don't you fret, Roman, I've received word that Prince Dastan, himself, is on his way to retrieve you. No doubt he'll pay him a hefty sum for you. So, yes… the shackles are necessary. Can't have you wandering off, now can we?"

Aulus spat in the man's face. Amar scowled, grabbed one of his men's cloaks and wiped his face. He pointed a finger at Aulus and shook it. "Now that wasn't very nice, Roman," he said. "I would have thought a man of your class would know better."

The Ambassador just glared at him as the Sheik turned to his men and gave some orders, leaving them in short order, mumbling about his ostriches. Aulus slumped to the ground and shook his feet, displeased to be shackled. The iron manacles chafed his skin, and he frowned.

It was going to be difficult to get out of this one. Usually he had back up, but he had left Alamut in such a hurry that he did not have the time to tell any of his men where he was going. And to make matters worse, it appears the Persians were looking for him, and were already on their way. As he mulled over his thoughts, his eyes scanned the room they had placed him in. That's when he spied it.

Across the way was a terribly constructed shelf, which was pushed flush against the wall, and it had a loose nail sticking out on one side. The chain attaching him to the ground was just long enough to reach. He shuffled over to the shelf, and when the men glared at him, he made it appear as if he was reaching for one of the tomes.

"You're orders don't say I can't read, do they!" he snapped at the men.

The men shrugged and went back to talking amongst themselves. Aulus grinned at his victory, as he pried the nail from the cracked wood. Quickly, while no one was watching, he slipped the nail into his boot and then went back to his corner with the book he had selected. He had no intention of reading the accursed thing, but he had to keep up appearances. As he eased back down to the floor, he smiled to himself, knowing that when the time was right, he could pick the lock on his restraints and be gone from this place.

XXX

Tamina held her breath as they walked through the crowd of men. She did not know if she liked this place. There were too many unsavory types with grizzled beards and dirty clothes. They all smelled of camel and liquor. Many openly leered at her, but kept their distance, noticing the sword attached to Dastan's belt. She welcomed his arm around her waist, as she leaned into him. He was her only safe protection amongst men like these: Scoundrels and marauders, bandits and fiends. Outlaws, the lot of them, surrounded them, but only watched, as Taj led them onward.

Up ahead was a stockade of wooden posts. Tamina heard an odd chirping noise and squinted, seeing the black feathers and long necks of strange birds—Ostriches! Off to the right, there was a rabble of men shouting and hollering, waving parchments in the air. A man, dressed similarly to Taj, was standing up on a makeshift platform shouting out the betting odds for the upcoming race.

_They're all just gamblers and drinkers_, Tamina thought. She turned back to pay attention to where Taj was leading them. They went up a ramp, and were brought before a big man with long black hair and dark shifty eyes. When he smiled at them, gold glinted in the sun. A tall African stood beside him, sharpening a pair of knives in his hands.

"Persian!" the man bellowed. "Ah," he looked over at Tamina. "And I see you've brought the lovely wife as well, come to see the Ostriches races have you?"

Dastan smiled. "Noble Sheik Amar," he bowed slightly. "I've come looking for a certain Roman."

"Yes, yes, I know," the Sheik smiled and wink. "But that can wait until after the races, yes?"

Dastan took a deep breath and gave a nod. "Why not."

"Care to make a wager," Amar asked eyeing Tamina. He turned to the African and mumbled, "I've been needing another serving girl. My latest acquisition keeps spilling the drinks."

The African rolled his eyes. "You have enough, my friend," he said. "You do not need anymore."

Amar turned back to them and smiled, his eyes looking devious. "What say you, Persian?" he asked.

"Not that I wouldn't be tempted," Dastan smirked. "But she's too feisty for you, believe me." He looked at her and then turned back to Amar. "I think I'll keep her."

Tamina elbowed him in the ribs, just for that. Amar shook with mirth and held a hand to his side, his mischievous eyes twinkling. "Right you are, Persian. Right you are." He turned to his dark skinned companion. "Too much trouble… that one."

The African nodded, but looked disinterested. He went back to sharpening his knives.

There was a horn blow and Amar grinned. An uproar came from all around as the ostriches were let loose. Tamina stood close to Dastan and watched as the jockeys rode the large birds down the track. Amar shook his fist in the air and whistled. He turned to them and smirked.

"Marvelous animals, ostriches," he said.

Tamina could only nod, a little amused at the sight of men riding the big birds.

"Their quite easy to train," Amar was saying, then lowered his voice. "Makes fixing the races easier… would you care for some ferment goat's milk?"

"Oh, no thank you," Tamina smiled politely, turning done the refreshment. Dastan turned it down as well, and grimaced as two ostriches collided, sending the jockeys tumbling to the ground.

"Whoa!" screamed Amar shaking his hands in the air and laughing. "Such excitement, eh?"

"Yes, indeed," Dastan said, looking down at Tamina and rolling his eyes. He turned back to the Sheik. "Now, about the Roman..."

"Yes, yes, yes, Persian," Amar waved his hands. "After the race." He bit his lower lip and stared out at the track. "Nothing like a good race, is there? Not to mention all the gold I'm making off these single race."

"If you have not noticed, all he cares about his gold," the African interjected.

Amar spun around. "I do not…," then stopped, noticing the look his dark skinned friend gave him. "Well, all right, maybe I do. I'm a businessman… and us small businessmen work tirelessly day and night for any tiny scrap of gold we can get." He looked at Dastan with devious eyes. "And this ain't Persia, so don't expect me to pay any taxes."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sheik Amar," Dastan proclaimed.

Amar narrowed his eyes at him, as if he doubted Dastan. "Well, okay… just saying. I've been fighting that most insidious evil for many years now… that's why I created this place, spread some false notoriety. But somehow, that accursed plague keeps finding its way to me."

"Taxes?" Tamina coughed as a dust cloud blew into the air when the ostriches raced passed.

The mischievous Sheik grinned. "Of course," he said. "No greater evil in this world than taxes… well, and perhaps tax collectors." He spat on the ground. "Can you believe some Armenian actually had the rocks to try and collect?" He snorted. "He left a head short, if you catch my meaning, Persian," he jabbed Dastan with his elbow and laughed boisterously.

"Right," Dastan gave a nod. "Now… about the Roman."

XXX

Aulus shifted uncomfortably. He had managed to observe things enough to know how and when to act. The guards were lazy and easily tricked. The offer of coin got one man's interest, however he soon lost himself in drink, and apparently doubted Aulus's ability to produce the coin upon his release.

He grumbled and cursed the gods of this forsaken land. But his curse was too quick, because to his delight, the guards began to bicker amongst themselves while dicing. Aulus grinned, the vice of gambling made its way into all cultures.

As the guards brawled over a petty amount of coin, Aulus plucked the small nail he had secreted away out of his boot. He smirked, as he was unnoticed. Taking the nail, he fiddled with the manacles around his legs until he was freed.

Slowly standing, making sure that the guards were unaware, Aulus looked around for a means of escaped. One of the guards had careless left his sword lying against the wall. The Ambassador smirked and grabbed the hilt. He spied a tunnel, and remembered being escorted through it when the savages had brought him here. It would lead to freedom.

He darted for the tunnel and stepped lightly to avoid detection. The darkness lasted for longer than he expected, which vexed him. However, eventually he saw a light at the end of the tunnel. As he grew nearer, he abandoned his concern of recapture and rushed to it, almost screaming in joy when he made it out into the sun.

Horses were tethered nearby, and he strolled confidently over to one. Aulus pulled himself up and smirked, looking back at the cave opening.

"Fools!" he laughed, pulling the reins around and spurring his mount on, directing it away from his would-be prison.

As he rode out into the desert, Aulus smiled to himself, basking in his victory of escape. Though, his smile slowly turned to a frown, when he realized he had no place to go. He racked his brain as he let the horse set an easy pace for itself. Then it hit him. One of his many contact in this accursed place. He could seek him out and with the man's help, Aulus would have his war… and his revenge.

XXX

They walked into the cave following Sheik Amar, who kept grinning and making promises, and his Ngbaka knife thrower. Dastan knew Seso, but that was from the other time. He liked the man, and remembered how brave and selfless he had been in retrieving the dagger from Nizam.

Now, the Ngbaka merely walked behind Amar as the devious businessman kept talking with Tamina about the fine art of ostrich racing. Tamina smiled, and was polite, though Dastan could tell she was holding back many a retort.

Suddenly men in dark turbans came running up to meet them and Taj appeared. He rushed to Amar and whispered in his ear.

"You don't say?" Amar said, which Taj only nodded to. Amar turned back to them. "Change plans, let me show you my most prized ostrich."

Dastan held up a hand. "No, enough games, Amar," he said. "I want you to take me to the Roman."

Amar narrowed his eyes. "He's indisposed at the moment."

Dastan groaned and rolled his eyes. "You don't have him."

Amar grimaced and shrugged. "Apparently I should ban drink and gambling amongst my men… but where's the fun in that, eh?"

"Come on, Tamina," Dastan said. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait!" Tamina protested and turned to the _honest_ businessman. "Noble Sheik, would you lend us some of your men so that we may track down this fiend and bring him to justice."

"Justice," Amar laughed and winked, looking over at Seso. "Is this one serious?" He turned to Tamina. "Justice would be if that man paid me what he owed me before he slinked off."

Seso gave him a look.

"What?" Amar raised his hands. "Don't go telling me you think we should help them?"

Seso raised his eyebrows to confirm that.

Amar let out a low groan, and stepped up to Tamina, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder. "Look, dearie, I'm just a slightly dishonorable businessman, I'm no turnkey, if you want your Roman, go get him yourself." He turned back to Seso. "And when will you lose that conscience of yours?"

"My friend," Seso said, laying a hand on Amar's shoulder. "When will you ever learn? War is not good for business. Especially when your business lies right in the middle of the two warring factions."

Amar squinted and his shifty eyes looked over to Dastan and Tamina. "You might have a point there, Seso."

"Well?" Dastan asked, raising his eyebrows, hopefully.

"Fine, Persian," Amar relented, looking displeased. "We'll do as your pretty little wife asks." He turned to Taj. "Round up the men, we have a Roman to catch."


	20. Chapter 20

**Persian Nights – Chapter 20**

Dastan and Tamina rode side by side as they crossed through the harsh desert. Tamina looked tired and weary of travel, but she never complained. He made sure she had plenty of water. Having been sequestered away in her palace for most of her life, she was not used to such hard riding, but she was handling it better than he had expected. Of course, he should have known she could. She had done well in the previous timeline and she was doing even better now.

The dark turban men of Sheik Amar rode around them and the devious little man, himself, was riding behind them talking with Seso. The knife thrower would faintly smile at the Sheik's jokes and nod in agreement when Amar said his ostriches were the best in the land. However, it was clear that Seso was bored with the conversation.

Taj was in the lead, having found the tracks left by the horse the Byzantine Ambassador had stolen. The man was a great tracker, but Dastan felt they were losing precious time. He had a strange sense that something was going against them. As if destiny was slowly turning its back on them. He stretched his neck and shook his shoulders, as if trying to rid himself of the feeling, but it would not go away.

Tamina gave him a funny look and pursed her lips. "Something wrong, Dastan?" she asked, moving her horse closer.

Dastan took a deep breath and looked around the sea of dunes. "I have a bad feeling," he said. "Something is not right here."

Just as he finished his sentence, a battle cry flew across the wind and a band of marauders appeared from the crest of the dune to the left. Arrows whooshed through the air, and Dastan unsheathed his sword to block them.

"Tamina, by me!" he shouted.

He turned and he gasped in horror, when he saw she was not there. Dastan looked around franticly for her as the marauders met the lines of their party.

Steel flashed in the sunlight, as he did battle with the closest opponent. Seso's knives flew threw the air and took out many of their attackers. Amar had jumped off his horse and was hiding behind the beast's rump, shouting orders for his protection. Dastan brought his horse up to a blue clad rider and swung his free hand, punching the man in the face, sending him flying to the ground.

An arrow whistled through the air and almost made contact with his head, but at the last minute someone grabbed his leg and pulled him from his mount. He fell to the sands, and quickly jumped up, shaking his head to clear it. He raised his sword to strike and stopped dead.

"Tamina?"

He hardly recognized her as she did fierce battle with the man he had unseated with his punch. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Well?" she huffed. "Just don't stand there gawking, my prince, help me!"

Dastan rushed to her side, and swung his blade down across the man's shoulder, cleaving his arm from his body. Blood squirted up and Dastan grabbed Tamina and rolled away, taking the brunt of the spray. He did not want any blood to mar her pretty satin dress.

Seso stepped up beside them and hurled a blade. Dastan looked up to see the last of the marauders kicking his horse with vigor, trying to get the animal to climb up the rise of the dune. The blade whirled through the air and caught the man square in the back. The man yelped and fell from his mount, the horse continuing to run away without his rider.

Seeing that the fighting was done, Amar stuck his head out from behind his horse, then grinned and walked up pompously. "Well, we sure showed them, didn't we?"

Seso turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows and shook his head.

"What?" Amar raised his hands. "We just have different fighting styles… that's all."

"My friend," Seso said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hiding behind a horse and shouting for others to protect you is not a fighting style."

"If you have gold and strong men-at-arms, it is," Amar countered with a mischievous grin and wink, a twinkle in his eye.

Taj came up, a nasty scar on his forehead, but other than that, looked no worse for wear. "These were no ordinary marauders," he declared, pulling up a medallion from one of the fallen attackers.

"Let me see that," Dastan said, taking it from the man and holding it up for better inspection. Tamina stepped up next to him.

"What is it, Dastan?" she asked.

"I recognized this sigil," he said, staring at the symbol of two crossing axes and four stars.

XXX

Tus paced his chambers, hating what he had to do tonight. Despite her show of sorrow and grief for the passing of his father, he knew she was not sad. She was thrilled with her rise. However, he had to admit that his father had been right with the union. Now most of the southern tribes would be absorbed into the Persian domain.

The door opened and she entered smiling smugly. "So tonight is my night, my King," she said, her stunning blue eyes looking anything but lovingly at him. She removed her shawl and allowed her dark raven hair to cascade down her perfect face.

"I am here only because it is my duty as your husband, my Queen," Tus spoke to Astera, as his first wife and now queen, approached him and began removing her clothes.

"You're duty will be to spend more nights is my bed now, than Nesrine's, my husband," Astera replied. "If you want true born sons, I am the one to provide them."

"I am King now," Tus said. "I can choose my own heir."

Astera smirked cruelly. "Your heir shall be your first born, just as you were your father's heir, so too will my son be yours."

"I have yet to get you with child, Astera," Tus said, beginning to remove his own clothes, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Astera smiled at him, finishing the removal of her clothing. She laid down on the bed and beckoned to him. "Do you duty, my husband, or my brother shall be very displeased."

Tus grumbled, but relented and removed his trousers. He closed his eyes and said a prayer to the Creator, asking for the strength to get through this. Though Astera was beautiful, she was ugly and cruel on the inside. He had to think of Nesrine just to get through it.

"Come to me, husband," Astera demanded.

Tus stepped over to the bed and did his duty.

XXX

Aulus entered the large tent and felt the hot air follow him in. The first thing his eyes saw was the large banner with two crossing axes and four stars surrounding them in white on a field of red. The man had always liked his axes and his stars, which represent himself and his three siblings.

The ground was covered in rich elaborate rugs and a large cushioned seating area was in the center. An oil lamp swung gently back and forth giving off enough light to see the tall figure sitting amongst the pillows, a long smoking pipe held in his mouth. The man stood and towered above him, slowly taking the pipe out of his lips and blowing out some smoke, creating a hazy before him the masked his face.

"Been a long time, Aulus," he said in a deep voice, thick with bitterness. "You've caused quite the commotion."

Aulus inclined his head. "And I'm hoping you will be willing to help me…. my lord."

The man folded his arms and puffed on his pipe, issuing more smoke out towards Aulus. "It was unwise to use the Hassassins," he said. "You should have come to see me first."

"I had little choice," Aulus grumbled. "Emperor Justinian has his mind set on peace and he sent his own virgin sister out to be deflowered by those barbarian Persians."

A deep low laugh rose from the man as he shook with mirth. "You are a silly one, Aulus," he said. "The Persians are not as barbaric as you pretend they are. The Emperor's sister's virtue is safe in their care. Though, you should hope she doesn't charm that prince she was sent to marry. That could ruin your plans."

"Our plans are one of the same, my lord," Aulus did not like supplicating himself to anyone, but he needed help, and this man was the only one he could turn to. No Byzantine general would turn against the emperor.

The man removed his pipe from his lips and hissed out smoke through his nostrils. "The Persians seek to take what is not theirs, Roman… they have not taken what is yours," he growled. "You only seek profits. I seek what was taken from me!"

"My lord, our ends are the same," Aulus stepped forward to look on the man.

He was large, taller than most men with strapping muscles and handsome features. His hair was long and braided, and his jaw smoothed and oiled. His cooper skin glimpsed in the light of the oil lamp.

"That may be, Aulus," he said, putting the pipe back in his lips and puffing. "But the goal is different."

"Please, you must help me," Aulus dropped to his knees and begged. He was not above it. If he had to beg, he would. At the moment, he cared more for his life than gold.

The man laughed and removed the pipe once more, tendrils of smoke issuing from the sides of his mouth as he laughed. "Very well, Aulus," he said. "You have shown humility and I am feeling generous today." He clapped his hands and curtains opened and servant appears bearing trays of food and wine. "Sit, my friend, and let us talk of things to come and people to kill."

Aulus scooted over to one of the cushions and crossed his legs, sitting down. "Thank you, Kosh, you are most kind and generous," he said as he accepted a goblet of wine.


	21. Chapter 21

**Persian Nights – Chapter 21**

Parisa stood in the outer chambers fiddling with her hands, nervous and slightly afraid. Tus had summoned her to Alamut, as well, and she did not know why. She had expected Astera and Nesrine to be summoned, the former because she was the queen and the later because Tus loved her, but he had no love for Parisa. Her marriage to him was only for the alliance with her father's kingdom, and nothing more. She had heard the handmaidens whisper, and knew that the King was with his first wife, "doing his duty." Nesrine was off at the temple, praying, and Parisa had been summoned to the great hall.

Faraz, the Captain of the Persian Guard, came out and nodded to her, signaling that whoever had summoned her to the great hall was ready to speak with her. Parisa took a deep breath and straightened her back, preparing for anything. She was a princess, the second wife of the king; she should start acting like it.

She entered the great hall to find Persian generals in a heated discussion with intelligence agents. Parisa may only be a woman of little education, but she recognized spies when she saw them. They were smaller than most men and had shifty eyes. She turned her attention to the twin thrones that she had heard about. Tamina was certainly lucky to have a husband like Dastan, one who viewed her as an equal and partner, something Parisa would never have.

Sitting in the regent's chair was her brother-in-law, Garsiv. The short-tempered prince rose and smiled at her. "Parisa," he spoke firmly, his eyes narrowing a bit. "Thank you for coming at such a late hour. I know you must be tired."

"I was not a sleep, Prince," she responded.

"Oh, well, just that same, I apologize," Garsiv stepped forward and placed his hands behind his back. "Tus has a task that he would like you to perform."

"A task… for me?" she blinked in shock.

"Yes," Garsiv nodded. "Princess Tamina has spoken very highly of you, and Dastan trusts her judgment greatly." He paused for a breath. "As you may know, the Byzantine princess Vigilantia is currently our… guest."

Parisa nodded. This much her handmaidens had told her. Garsiv gave a slight smile and she sensed that he liked this roman princess, but due to certain circumstances was forbidden to see her at the moment.

"You will be doing your husband, the King, a great service by seeing to her, giving her some company, talking to her," he gestured in the air. "I don't know… do what women do: gossip and such."

To speak with a princess from the west and learn of the foreign lands there was more than Parisa could have hoped. This would be a task she'd find some pleasure in. She bowed her head and smiled. "It would be my honor, Prince Garsiv."

XXX

The campfire was warm and they sat near it to ward off the cold. Tamina sat close to Dastan and watched as he fiddled around with the medallion in his hands. His eyes narrowed as he thought, glaring hard at the metal in his hand. She gently rubbed the back of his neck as his brow lowered and his eyebrows knitted together, as if he was angry.

Amar came over and slumped over by them. His devious eyes looked over at them and he gestured to the medallion.

"Whose sigil did you say that was?" the Sheik inquired, looking at the gold medallion with greedy eyes.

"The Warlord Kosh," Dastan replied.

"You mean that southern warlord?" Amar asked cautiously, paling a little.

Dastan nodded. "The same. He's been raiding the south of Persia for quite some time. In fact, we had been on our way to parlay with him when Nizam misled us into attacking Alamut." He tossed the medallion on the ground. "After which, he thought Kosh had agreed to a truce, but apparently he as begun his raids again."

Amar quickly grabbed the gold medallion. "Well, this gold can be put to good use. I'm going to need compensation for the men I lost in that attack earlier."

"What are you talking about?" Dastan laughed. "The only men that died were Kosh's marauders."

Amar narrowed his eyes and winked one eye. "No harm in being prepared, eh, Persian?" he tucked the medallion into his robes and it disappeared, no doubt never to be seen again.

"You really do love your gold, don't you, noble Sheik?" Tamina said, smiling.

"Gold is the only thing that all men seem to agree upon, my dear princess," Amar smirked, mischief in his eyes as he pushed himself up to waddle over to his men.

Dastan inhaled deeply and slumped his shoulders. "I don't think you should have come, Tamina," he said slowly.

"Why?" she raised an eyebrow. "Because Kosh is on the rise. Surely the Lion of Persia can handle a warlord like Kosh."

"Kosh is not just any warlord, Tamina," Dastan sighed.

"I know," Tamina said nodding. "He's the most powerful of the warlord in the entire region, and his loyalties towards the Persia shift like the faces of the moon."

"It's more than that, princess," Dastan exhaled and looked over at her with his blue eyes. "Kosh was not always a problem. When his father, Lord Havaar, was alive, Kosh even served in the Persian army. He rose quickly and was even one of Tus's most trusted officers. When Havaar died he turned against us, and made a demand… one that my father would not yield to."

"What demand?" Tamina asked, scooting closer to him.

"He wanted his sister back," Dastan said.

"His sister?" she furrowed her brow, confused to his meaning.

"Yes," Dastan nodded. "Lord Havaar gave his eldest daughter to us in an alliance of marriage."

"One of Tus's wives," Tamina said. "Which one?"

Dastan sighed deeply. "Our newly made queen."

"Astera!" Tamina nearly shouted, then covered her mouth, when the others looked up to see what was going on. She lowered her voiced and mouthed the woman's name, shocked and stunned.

"I know," Dastan replied, shrugging. "I feel sorry for Tus. But with this knew development… I think I'm beginning to suspect what Kosh is really after."

Tamina gave a nod. "He wants the Persian throne," she said, reading his mind. "If Tus should get Astera with child, Kosh would have a blood link. He could then kill Tus and rule as regent… practically the king."

Dastan nodded. "And I suspect that Astera may be in on it."

"You do?" Tamina narrowed her eyes. She had to admit, she had no love for Astera, but she could not imagine the woman being capable of such treachery. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to go back to Alamut," Dastan said, looking into the fire. "I think it's very clear where Ambassador Aulus has fled, and we're not going to be able to get at him alone… even with our present company. We'll need the full might of the Persian army."

Tamina leaned her head against his shoulder. "What we need is the Hand of the Gods, my Lion," she glanced up at him. "Perhaps we should visit the Hourglass of Time when we return."

Dastan visibly shuddered. "We don't need the gods to stop this, Tamina," he said. "With all the might of the Empire behind us, no divine assistance will be necessary."

XXX

Aulus woke to the sound of hissing. His eyes flirted over the bed to the carpeted floors. The sides of the rich cloth tent swayed in the night wind, and he pulled himself up, shifting out of the arms of the harem girl Kosh had loaned him for the evening. Slowly pulling on his long tunic, Aulus slithered out of bed. He lifted the curtain and ducked outside.

"Roman has bad tastes in friends," came the soft voice of the Hassassin.

Aulus turned to see the dark cowled figure standing to his left. He placed his hand over his heart, trying to stay its rapid palpitations. The man's snake was slithering around his shoulders, its forked tongue flicking out as its golden eyes watched him.

"What do you mean?" Aulus demanded, after he had regained his composure.

The Hassassin knelt and picked up a fist full of sand, standing and letting it slip from his fingers. "Like the sand falling, so does life," the man purred, his dull, drugged, eyes sleepily looking out at him. "When the sands run out, death awaits."

"Are you threatening me?" snarled Aulus.

"Make no threats I do," the Hassassin smirked. "I merely bring a warning." He narrowed his eyes and his smirk widened. "This fulfills the debt we owed you for your hospitality, Roman. If you call upon us again, be prepared with necessary funds."

"Why, I never!" huffed Aulus. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, the hooded figure was gone. He stamped his foot in the sand and looked around for the patrolling guards in Kosh's encampment. Why had none of them seen the Hassassin's approach? Growling in irritation, Aulus went back into the tent and woke the harem girl for some much needed distraction.

XXX

Parisa approached the doors nervously. She had been informed the roman princess was still awake, reading from some scrolls in the library. She was glad to be back in Alamut, and had hoped to find the High Priestess here, but apparently she had gone out with Prince Dastan in search of the Ambassador from the Byzantine Empire.

She cautiously poked her head through the door and saw the beautiful westerner seated underneath a burning oil lamp, reading. Parisa stepped forward and lightly cleared her throat.

The roman princess looked up and smiled. "A friendly face," she beamed. "You must be Parisa."

Parisa raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Yes, I am… how—"

"Garsiv told me he would find someone for me to talk with," Vigilantia replied. "In letter, of course. Under the present circumstances he cannot see me in person."

Parisa arrived at the table where Vigilantia was seated and sat down next to her, folding her hands in her lap. "You were to be Garsiv's wife?" Parisa asked.

"Yes," Vigilantia nodded. "And I still might be. It all seems to rest on what Ambassador Aulus has been up to. My brother would never have assassins sent to kill King Sharaman. Never. He wants to end the conflict with Persia, so that both kingdoms can prosper in peace."

"A noble goal," Parisa replied.

"What about you, Parisa? How has your marriage to King Tus been?" Vigilantia asked, obviously unaware of how things were between the three wives to Tus.

"I am his second wife and least favorite," she answered, meekly. "My father, the noble Sheik Sirdar is old and ailing, and has no sons. So he sought to protect our people and me by allying our small kingdom with Persia through marriage. When my father dies, all of our lands and people will become subject to the Persian crown."

"Does your husband, the King, not share any interests with you?" Vigilantia asked, giving Parisa a sympathetic smile.

"Prayer is the only thing that we seem to have in common," Parisa replied, sorrowfully. "His heart lies with Nesrine. Out of all three of us, she is the one who sees him the most. Astera gets one night a month because of duty, and Nesrine gets the rest. I have none."

"I'm sorry," Vigilantia reached out and gave her a comforting pat on the arm.

Parisa took a deep breath and forced a smile. "No, I am sorry, I am pouring all my problems onto you, when you have problems enough of your own."

"I have faith my part in this will be absolved," Vigilantia said. "The Lord knows I came to Alamut for peace, not to create a war."

"You are a… I'm sorry, what do you call yourselves?" Parisa asked.

"Christians," Vigilantia replied. "We are followers of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and his holy Father."

"The Creator?" Parisa inquired, unsure of the religion of the Romans.

"Yes," Vigilantia replied. "The All Mighty knows all and He knows I am innocent of any sins."

Parisa nodded, feeling uncomfortable taking about gods she knew nothing about. The beautiful roman princess seemed to sense her unease and changed the topic. "Have you heard the legends of Alexander the Great?"

Parisa shook her head. "I have heard the name, but nothing of the legends surrounding him," she said. "All I know is that he was a great conqueror."

Vigilantia smiled, and scooted over to her, holding up the scroll.

"Why don't we read about him together," she said, raising an eyebrow. "It will do good for us to lose ourselves in history and forget the troubles of present."

Parisa felt herself genuinely smile for the first time that she could remember. "I would like that."

XXX

"Done so soon, Tus?" Astera called after him, as he sat up from the bed and pulled his robe on.

"I have done my duty, Astera," he said, standing. "It says nothing about cuddling with you afterwards."

Astera ran her hands down her legs. "You will need to lay with me many more times, my husband, until you get me with child," she said. "Or is your brother Dastan the true buck of the Persian Empire."

Tus lowered his brow and glared at his queen. "Why don't you return to your brother, as he has requested?"

"My place is by your side, my husband," Astera purred, running her tongue across her lip suggestively. "I am your first wife, your queen. You took my maidenhood and I made you wise to the ways of the world."

Tus huffed. "You were not my first, woman!" he growled as he tied the string around his waist, covering himself.

Astera sat up and made no moved to cover her exquisite form. Her copper skin glistened with sweat. Her stunning blue eyes glared out at him. "When you came to our wedding bed, husband, I was the one who had to tell you what to do!"

Tus clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to strike her. Despite how he felt about her, she was the only thing that guaranteed the loyalty of the southern tribes. Her brother had been stayed after Nizam's death, and had halted his raids, but if something were to happen to his little sister, Tus knew that the Warlord Kosh would raise a deadly sandstorm across the lands.

"Come back to bed, husband!" she snapped. "Prove to me that Dastan is not the only lion Persia has to offer."

He growled and flung his robes off and pushed her to the bed. "If it were not for your brother, I would have terminated our marriage a long time ago," Tus said. "But be mindful, Astera. If Kosh dies, I will no longer have to fear his retribution. Then this…" he gestured to their bed. "This will be nothing. It will be dissolved and you can go back to your tribes and find a goat herder to who would be willing to marry you."

"I am a queen," Astera said. "Crowned by the High Priests of Nasaf. Even if you wanted too, you can no longer get rid of me that easily." She shifted under him and positioned her hips. "Now, close your eyes, my husband, and think of your Nesrine… and give me a son!"


	22. Chapter 22

**Persian Nights – Chapter 22**

Tamina took a deep breath and collapsed onto her bed, pleased to be back. Captain Babak had chided her on absconding without so much as a single man from the Alamutian guard to watch over her. She dismissed his concern, and declared that she needed no guard when she had her husband with her. The man had looked up at Dastan, his eyes narrowing for bit, before grumbling and going back to his duties.

Now, Tamina was resting comfortably in her own bed, pleased to be out of the hot arid desert. She would never have admitted it to Dastan, but it had been difficult for her to keep up her stamina in the harsh climate of the sands. She much preferred her temple life. And she had neglected her duties here.

Her mother, Shakeela, who had been one of the greatest and most wise High Priestess of their order, would have been disappointed in her. And she knew her father, the great Tamur, as her mother would lovingly call him, would have given her a scolding for running off into the desert. But neither of them were alive.

Tamina missed them terribly. Both her parents had served the order wisely and justly, and she had inherited her mother's position. It had always been believed that she would have married the High Priest Azim, as was tradition. But then the Persians had invaded and Tus had made an offer of marriage. Tamina thanked the gods that she did not have to marry Azim. He was a stick with no mass to him. She enjoyed being with Dastan much more that she would have enjoyed being with Azim.

While she mulled through her thoughts, she was unaware of Dastan returning to their bedchambers. He huffed and began disrobing, shaking his head.

Tamina sat up, pulling the covers up with her, not really knowing why, Dastan had seen her naked flesh many times. "What troubles you, my Lion?"

Dastan looked over his shoulder at her as he unbuckled his trousers. "Astera's been pushing Tus," he said. "She wants a son… and now that they are both king and queen, the priests back in Nasaf are pressuring him to get her with child."

"Is that why we are hosting Tus and his wives here?" Tamina asked, smirking a bit. "Because he wants to get away from those meddlesome priests?"

Her Lion raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps, my princess… perhaps," then his playfulness disappeared. "In reality, I think it has to do with father being killed in Nasaf. Tus has begun talking about moving the capital to the ancient capital of Babylon."

"It was the capital of Persia in Alexander's time," Tamina replied.

"Famed for its hanging gardens, yes I know," he said. "If they ever had hanging gardens, they are long since gone. Destroyed, no doubt, in some war long ago… probably when his generals started bickered over who was to inherit his kingdom."

"No doubt," Tamina agreed.

Dastan sighed and finished undressing, then slipped under the covers next to her. Tamina basked in the added warmth of his body, and curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating.

"I hear Parisa's been spending time with Princess Vigilantia," Tamina said. "Whose idea was that?"

"Garsiv's, I think?" Dastan said, and looked over at her and smiled, noticing her stunned expression. "I know. I could hardly believe it myself."

Tamina began to run her fingers around in circle on his chest. "Dastan…," she broached cautiously. "I think we should seek the gods help. If what you believe about Ambassador Aulus is true… he'll have the Warlord Kosh on his side anytime now."

Dastan shook his head. "I don't think so, not anymore."

Tamina furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Tus has been having Astera's letters intercepted, and apparently Kosh is planning on using his sister to have a coup," Dastan informed her.

She nodded and grinned, understanding. "That is why Astera has become more assertive in her desire to have a son," Tamina thought out loud. "Once he has a blood link to the throne, Kosh will have no need for a grand war to conquer Persia. He'd simply need to kill Tus."

Dastan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Didn't we discuss this two nights ago," he said, grinning. "But yes, if Tus gets Astera with child and that child is male, Kosh will likely attempt a coup. And what's more, we now know that that is his main plan. I don't think he is interested in having a war between the Byzantines and Persia. That would only cause strife for his would-be subjects."

Tamina nodded. "Then we need to find a way to stop Astera from getting with child."

"The most easy way is for Tus to stop laying with her, but then we'd have to deal with Astera's wrath, and I don't know if I'm ready for that just yet," Dastan said, slightly joking.

Tamina suddenly sat up, the idea coming to her mind so abruptly she laughed out loud at how painfully obvious it was.

"What?" Dastan said, sitting up next to her, rubbing her arm tenderly.

"Tus is King now," she explained. "He can change the laws. Why does he not do what the kings of ancient Persia did and declare their first born… not their first wife's first born… but theirs as the heir. If I remember my studies correctly, many of your Persian kings were actually the sons of second and third wives."

"That is ancient history, Tamina," Dastan shook his head. "And besides, Astera's already been declared queen by the priests in Nasaf. There is little more to do on that front."

"What if Astera is barren?" she asked.

"But she's not," Dastan said looking away. "She has been with child once before."

"When?"

"Oddly enough, it occurred on their wedding night," Dastan replied. "At the time, Tus has been thrilled, he had yet to know the true Astera."

"What happened?" Tamina asked.

"The child was stillborn," Dastan swallowed. "It was a girl."

"Oh," Tamina looked down. No matter how she felt about the woman, she felt sorry that Astera had had that happen to her. Tamina's own mother had given birth to a stillborn son, and it had caused her mother to fall into a deep grief that had lasted almost a year. She wondered if that terrible occurrence had been part of what made Astera so bitter and cruel.

Dastan closed his eyes and laid back down. Tamina eased herself down next to him and rested her arm on his chest.

"What of Nesrine and Parisa?" Tamina asked. "Surely one of them could become with child, and then Tus could declare that child his heir. I have read the Persian laws. And nowhere did I find a decree that said the heir had to be the first born of the first wife. If you Persians spent as much time reading your laws as you did conquering you would see the truth of what I speak."

Her Lion took in a deep breath and exhaled softly. "Tamina, I believe you. I do not need words in a book to confirm what you say," he said. "But now that I think about, I know you're right. We've always just assumed that was the case. We had no other example. Father only had one wife… our mother."

"Then perhaps Nesrine can be the mother of Tus's heir," Tamina smiled.

Dastan shook his head. "Impossible."

"Why?"

He looked at her and smiled sadly. "Because unlike Astera, Nesrine is truly barren."

"And this does not bother Tus?"

Dastan nodded. "Tus once told me that he'd rather go without children and be only with Nersine if it was not his duty to produce an heir to the throne."

Tamina raised herself up a bit to look down on her prince. "That is quite noble of your brother to say that, I did not think him made of such chivalry."

"There is a lot about Tus you do not know," Dastan said.

"What about you?" she squirmed close to him. "Is there anything I don't know about you?"

Dastan laughed. "Many things!" he jested. "But I'm sure we can remedy that in the future."

He put his arm around her shoulder and held her tight. Tamina shifted and thought. If Astera getting with child meant her brother Kosh would attempt a coup, and Nesrine was barren, that left…

"Parisa," she said out loud.

"What?" Dastan softly breathed.

"Tus has three wives, silly," Tamina said, giving his chest a playful slap. "And if he does not want Astera to be the mother of his heir and Nesrine is barren, that leaves Parisa."

Dastan furrowed his brow. "But Tus has no love for her."

"Does it matter?" Tamina asked. "He has no love for Astera, yet that does not stop him from coupling with her once a month."

"I could not do that," Dastan asserted. "I could never slept with another now that I have you."

Tamina smiled. "While I like hearing that, you're getting off topic," she said. "Parisa can be the mother of the heir to the Persian throne. She is his second wife, and her father is a respected and wise Sheik. There would be no doubt to the child's legitimacy and right to the throne."

Dastan clenched his jaw and his eyes told her he was mulling over the idea. "All right," he relented. "I shall broach the subject with Tus during our next meeting." He paused and looked to her. "But I'd need some proof to back up our assumptions that the laws have nothing in them that says the heir must be the first born of the first wife."

Tamina smiled. "Good thing Alamut has such an extensive library!"

XXX

Aulus watched from his seated cushion as Kosh entered the tent, his long braided hair swaying down his back, and his copper skin already glistening with sweat. The warlord looked at him and snarled.

"You have dangerous friends, Aulus," he growled. "Three of my men were found dead last night. From the decay of their bodies it is clear they died two nights ago. That was your first night here."

"I had a visitor, yes," Aulus admitted.

"Did he have to kill my men?" Kosh huffed as he sat down on his large cushions.

Aulus shrugged. "It is not my fault if your men cannot pay attention when shadows lurk around them," he replied, smirking as he took a sip from his goblet.

Kosh grumbled and shouted some orders. Guards immediately came rushing in. "Perhaps I was mistaken about you, Aulus," Kosh said, glaring at him hard. "And my sister thinks the same. Currently she offers me a better and more risk free way of getting what I want than you do."

"Your sister?" Aulus furrowed his brow, truly confused.

Kosh smirked and laughed boisterously at his ignorance. "You have met her many times, yet you do not even know who she is!" he laughed.

"Who?" Aulus huffed.

"She is queen now, old fool," Kosh snapped his fingers and the guards grabbed Aulus by the arms and pulled him up.

"Astera!" he groaned. He had made a mistake coming to Kosh. No doubt the warlord had other plans to obtain what he wanted. And war between the Persians and Byzantines were not on the warlord's agenda.

Kosh stood up and gazed into his eyes, knitting his eyebrows together. "Are all Romans as stupid as you, Aulus?" he asked, chuckling. "Because if they are, it is going to be easy to wrest their kingdoms away." He turned to his guards. "Chain him and take him to the nearest Persian outpost as a gift for my brother-in-law."

The men saluted and dragged Aulus from the tent.


	23. Chapter 23

**Persian Nights – Chapter 23**

Dastan rushed into the audience room, Tamina quickly following behind. It had been a week, and they had finally found the proof they needed to tell his brother that the Persian law clearly stated that Tus's first born son, whether by his first, second, or third wife, was his true heir. Tamina had been the one who had eventually found the scroll, and Dastan was eager to share the news, knowing how much would it improve everyone's lives. However, when they arrived, Dastan saw that Tus and Garsiv were not alone. Captain Faraz of the Persian guard was there as well, and he appeared to have exciting news.

When Dastan and Tamina approached, Faraz looked up and stepped back from Tus, bowing. "What's going on?" Dastan asked.

Garsiv smiled broadly. "The Roman has been delivered to us."

"Delivered?" Tamina furrowed her brow.

"Yes," Tus said, folding his hands behind his back. "From what Captain Faraz has just told us, Ambassador Aulus was handed over to a garrison on our southern borders by some marauders who are known associates of the Warlord Kosh."

"Apparently Kosh didn't find the Roman's company very enjoyable," Garsiv smirked.

Tus nodded. "They claimed that Kosh was handing over Aulus has a gift for me, his brother-in-law and his King."

Dastan shook his head. "Kosh is up to something."

"Oh, I have no doubt," Tus agreed. "But for the meantime, let us find out what the Ambassador has to say for himself."

Nodding, Dastan extended his hand to Tamina, who took it. Together they walked over to their thrones and sat, keeping hold of each other's hand. Garsiv stood off to the side, holding back what looked to be the workings of a happy face, which Dastan was eager to see. Garsiv was a frowner more than anything else and Dastan thought it would be nice to see a change in his brother's demeanor.

Tus gave a signal with the wave of his hand and Captain Faraz disappeared through the archway. After a moment, the sounds of chains sliding across stone met their ears. Then the Ambassador came into view, surrounded by guards. Dastan and Tamina watched as Aulus shuffled in with manacles around his wrists and ankles. The man looked haggard, but other than that appeared to have been treated humanely.

Aulus dropped to his knees before Tus, his eyes looking up pleadingly. "Please… your majesty, do not have me killed," the man begged, looking very much like the roman pig Garsiv had once called him.

"Though that might be tempting," Tus said, drawing it out, "we will not kill you. However, I would suggest you tell us the truth of what has happened and what you have been up to."

Aulus nodded vigorously. "Of course, your majesty," he said. "I hired the Hassassins to kill the lady Vigilantia, but they did not act when I had told them."

"You wanted your own Emperor's sister dead?" Tamina was appalled.

"A means to an end," asserted Aulus, causally. "I could not let her reach here and find that she enjoyed the prince," he looked at Garsiv. "I wanted her to be killed and have it look like you Persians did it, hoping that it would enrage Justinian enough to call off the truce."

Dastan thought it was a little amusing seeing how much the Ambassador had changed from when he had last seen him. He was no longer the pompous arrogant man who had tried to crash their wedding. He was a broken man, willing to divulge any secret that would keep him from being executed.

"Continue," Tus urged when Aulus had stopped.

The Roman licked his lips and nodded. "Of course," he said. "The war between Persia and Byzantium has made me rich. But with Justinian coming to power, and his want for peace, I was going to lose the profits."

"So you wanted to spark more bloodshed just for coin?" Tamina shook her head and looked over at Dastan.

Dastan shrugged. Greed was a common enough motive for men such as Aulus. Even for empires. Many a war had been fought over trading routes and stores of gold. Legend told that the entire city of Troy had been sacked and laid to waste because the ancient Greeks wanted access to the silk trade routes without the Trojans as middlemen. Helen running away with Paris was just an excuse that the King of Mycenae needed to launch an invasion with the backing of all of Greece.

"What of our father?" Tus demanded, stepping forward. "Were you behind that as well?"

Aulus reluctantly nodded. "I bought the swords and the Hassassins used them."

"And you paid them," Garsiv said. "And to think, my father defended you to me."

"He was a good man," Aulus said, becoming bolder in his confession. "A good king. But he was standing in my way." He paused and took a breath. "Are you going to kill me now?"

"No, not just yet," Tus looked up and nodded to Faraz. The man came over and grabbed Aulus. "First, we're going to have you interrogated to find out what you know about Kosh's forces and plans."

"Interrogated?" gulped Aulus. "No… no, I will tell you everything. No interrogation needed."

Tus raised his eyebrow and waited. The Roman licked his lips and looked around at them. "He is waiting for you to get his sister with child, your majesty," Aulus told Tus. "Then, if the fates give you a son, he plans on killing you and taking his place by Astera's side as regent of Persia."

Dastan saw Tus visibly reddened, but said nothing. He merely gave a wave and Faraz hauled Aulus away, the Roman squealing and screaming like a pig going to the slaughter. Garsiv excused himself, and Dastan smiled inwardly, knowing his brother was going to Vigilantia to apologize for his accusations and wrong treatment of her. He wondered if Garsiv and the roman princess had a future. It would be interesting, if Byzantium and Persia began allies through marriage. It would certainly change a few things.

Presently, Tus took a deep breath and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb.

"What am I going to do with that woman!" he huffed.

Tamina nudged Dastan. "Tell him, Lion!"

Tus turned, noticing and overhearing her comment. "Tell me what, Dastan?"

Dastan smiled weakly and stood, accepting the scroll from Tamina, who gave him a tight smile. "We've been searching through the library, looking for anything in the Persian laws that could… um… help with your situation, brother."

"Oh, and what have you found?" Tus inquired, taking the scroll and unrolling it to look at its contents.

Before Dastan could answer, Tamina jumped up, practically beaming. "All the law states is that your first born is your heir, it makes no reference to whether it is the first born of your first wife or one of the others."

Dastan nodded and gave her look, telling her to let him deal with it. She gave him one her fierce little glares, but relented.

"According to the law, brother," Dastan said, stepping up next to Tus, "all that is required for a son to be the rightful heir is for him to be your first born… no more, no less."

"But Nesrine is barren," Tus said. "Even if I wanted her child to be my heir, she cannot conceive."

Dastan noticed Tamina virtually hopping with need to speak. He sighed and gave a nod. She stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Tus's arm. "You have three wives, Tus," she said. "You have Astera, who I think we all despise, you have your love, Nesrine. But you also have another, Parisa."

Tus nodded. "A sweet girl, to be sure, but we have nothing in common."

"She is your second wife, Tus," Tamina almost sounded like she was admonishing him. "And you have not gone to her bed since your wedding night."

Tus's nostrils flared. "Dastan, control your wife, it is not her business whose bed I go to."

Dastan placed a hand on Tus's shoulder. "You are missing the point, brother," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "If you get Parisa with child and she gives birth to a son… that son will be your heir."

For a moment, he was afraid his brother was too thick to understand, but then it hit. Tus's mouth dropped. He put the scroll down and brought out his prayer beads and began pacing. "Parisa does come from a old and noble family," he spoke softly, almost to himself. "Her father is old and ailing, yet her brother has been nothing but loyal to us."

"She will make a good mother to a future king," Tamina said. "In the end, that is all she wants, Tus, to be a mother."

Tus looked at her, and nodded. "Then Astera shall see me no more," he snapped his fingers and Luka approached and gave a nod. "Luka, inform my second wife that I shall be attending her this evening."

Luka bowed and left to inform Parisa that the king would be visiting her bed this night. Tamina smiled to herself. Dastan gave her a funny look and she just widened her smile, practically beaming. He rolled his eyes and suppressed a laugh. Tus left, no doubt to inform Nesrine that he was going to sleep with Parisa to ensure Astera would not be the mother of the future king.

Dastan turned to Tamina, realizing that they were alone. "Care for walk, my princess?" he asked, smiling.

"Why, my prince," she smiled back. "I thought you'd never ask."

Smiling, they held hands as they walked out of the audience chamber, heading out to wandering the temple as they had on the night Dastan had told her everything about what he knew and had done with her in the time that had been erased by the Sands of Time.

XXX

The sand flowed around and glowed, shimmering and winking in and out of existence. The gods looked down upon the world and watched as their Hand had avoided a war without even knowing they had guided his movements. From the moment the King of Persia had been killed they had whispered into the Prince's ear, telling him what to do.

Their Hand had saved the world, and no one knew it. He had pulled the dagger from the Hourglass of Time and been thrown back to write history. Little did he know that at that instance he had become their instrument. They guided everything he did, and his actions were destined.

His brother had planned on marrying the High Priestess of Alamut himself, but they had entered his mind to have him offer his brother, who not of royal blood was a prince nonetheless. Their Priestess had stronger blood than she knew, and with her blood mixing with their Hand, true heroes would be born.

Now, with war averted and peace on the horizon, the gods watched as their Hand walked hand in hand with their Priestess through their temple. Silently, they whispered into his ear, sensing that the time was right. They heighten the Prince's already strong emotions for their Priestess and encouraged him to take her.

Smiling with their triumph, they watched as the two lovers secreted themselves away in their bedchambers and made passionate love. The gods knew something wondrous would come of this union. It would birth a golden age that would last for a hundred years.

XXX

Dastan laid in bed beside his beautiful wife and sighed with content after a rather enjoyable session of lovemaking. She rested her head on his shoulder, dancing her fingers around his chest, as he slowly ran his fingers up and down her spine, tickling her. Tamina shifted and raised herself up by her elbow.

"Dastan," she said, narrowing her eyes, the hints of a smile on her lips. "I have some thing to tell you…"

THE END

* * *

*Epilogue to follow to wrap things up more completely.


	24. Epilogue

**Persian Nights – Epilogue**

The future holds mysterious things. Destiny is not always clear but things happen for reason. The heroes of time have many stories, some yet told, some never to be known. But lived they did, loved, fought, grieved, and died. The gods watched it all and smiled down upon them, granting them eternal peace when their time came.

King Tus and Princess Parisa had a son, Anushiravan, who became a champion of the common people. He reigned during the height of Persia's golden age and was so wise that his people called him Anushiravan the Just.

The warrior prince Garsiv had a failing out with Vigilantia, but not before getting her with child. She returned to Constantinople heavy with child, and the Emperor Justinian quickly wedded her to a senator and paid the man to claim the child as his own. The child would grow up to be Justin II, and succeed his uncle Justinian to the throne of Byzantium. He would grow bitter and resentful, knowing his true father was Persian, and he started the wars again, trying to claim the desert empire for himself.

Dastan, the Hand of the Gods, would go on to defeat a Turkish invasion and have many adventures and tales to tell. But the gods's eyes never strayed far from Alamut, where Tamina, the High Priestess of Alamut and the wife of Prince Dastan, gave birth to twins, Prince Rustam and Princess Neelam.

Rustam would grow up to be a great warrior like his father, yet wise like his mother. He became a great hero to Persia and defeated the Warlord Kosh, ending the man's seemingly never-ending struggle for the throne of Persia.

Neelam followed in her mother's footsteps, becoming the High Priestess of Alamut and guardian of the Dagger of Time. During her reign in Alamut, she became the most famous and most celebrated religious figure in all of Persia.

Both were close with their cousin, the King Anushiravan, and together the three of them shaped the future that their parents had laid the foundation of: A golden age that lasted for a hundred years.

* * *

*Hope you all enjoyed. This story kind of got away from me, but I tried to tie everything up.


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